


Under the Surface

by sir_kingsley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Always Female Castiel (Supernatural), Always Female Dean Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Dean, Dean/Cas Tropefest 2017, Depressed Castiel, F/F, Female Castiel, Female Castiel/Female Dean Winchester, Female Dean Winchester, Femslash, Gay Castiel, Homophobia, Hurt Castiel, Lawyer Castiel, Mentions of past child abuse, Rich Castiel, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Tattoo Artist Dean, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean, Unhappy Castiel, mentions of past conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 02:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 34,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_kingsley/pseuds/sir_kingsley
Summary: Deanna Winchester is one of the best tattoo artists on the west coast. She loves the life she's built in her little shop, working with her closest friends, Charlie and Pamela. She isn't prepared for her entire world to be flipped on it's axis when a woman with cold blue eyes breezes into the shop.Castielle Novak is the last person you'd expect to find in a tattoo parlor, but she just can't stop coming back. Something about the pain, the art, and the green-eyed woman who owns it gives her just enough strength to carry on through her daily life. But as her sister's wedding approaches and her mother's ever-present disapproval starts to take its toll, Cas will ask something of Deanna will test both of them and the profound connection they share.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have wanted to write this fic for almost a year now and I'm so glad to finally see it come to be.  
> I would like to think my extraordinary artist [Dreym](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/) for her mind-blowing artwork. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta [Wanderingcas](https://wanderingcas.tumblr.com/) whose critiques and commentary kept this story going.
> 
> And, of course, thank you to the mods of the Deancas Tropefest, Muse and Jojo, for running this challenge and giving me a reason to write. 
> 
> Please note: I am not a tattoo artist nor do I have any tattoos. I did research to try to make this as realistic as possible but there are bound to be mistakes so please forgive me.

“All right, Ash, take a look.”

Dee rolls away from her station, lifting her arms high over her head and relishing the popping of her back. 

Ash climbs out of the chair carefully and wobbles over to the full-length mirror, taking in the flurry of code now inked into his forearm.   
“Dee, you son of a bitch,” he breathes, fingers ghosting over the wet characters.

Dee can’t help her proud grin as she offers a small shrug. “Hey, I do what I can. Now, get your ass over here so I can bandage you up before you do something stupid.” 

“This is so damn cool,” Ash gushes, taking another moment to admire his reflection before returning to the chair. “It’s like the code is coming out of me! I’m one with the machines, dude.”

Dee smiles as she presses gauze to the fresh tattoo and wraps it snuggly. “I’m really glad you like it, Ash. Just don’t mess it up.”  
“Hey, hey, I’d never disrespect your work like that. Don’t you worry, this masterpiece is safe in my hands.”

Once Ash is bandaged, Dee shows him up front to the register. Money taken care of, Ash offers a fist and Dee can’t help but grin as she touches her knuckles to Ash’s.

“Dee, my man, thanks for the work,” Ash says with a wink as he steps away. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“Not too soon. I appreciate your business but I don’t like taking all your money,” Dee teases.

“If I had to get a second job to afford your ink, it’d be worth it. See ya!”

“Later!”

Ash waltzes out of the shop, mullet moving in the breeze and Dee chuckles, lowering herself into a chair with a moan of relief.

Five damn hours. Not the longest session she’s ever had, but still exhausting. At least Ash had taken it like a champ. 

“You should really look into yoga,” comes a cheery voice from behind her. “Does wonders for the back.”

Dee frowns at Charlie. “Do I look like the kind of girl who does yoga?”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “You could at least stretch in the morning. All the hunching over is killing your posture and you’re gonna have back problems before you’re forty.”

“Thanks, Dr. Oz. Don’t you have a needle to be pushing into someone’s face?”

“My next appointment isn’t until 6:00,” Charlie says and eases her ass up onto the front desk. “What about you?”

Dee leans back in her chair. “Nah, I’m done for the day,” she sighs. “Ash was my only appointment. Pam can handle any walk-ins.”

“Then get the hell out of here and go home and get some rest.” Charlie swats at her friend. 

Dee bats Charlie’s hands away. “Okay, I’m going, I’m g-”

Just at that moment the bell over the front door chimes, and both women look up as a dark-haired woman sweeps into the shop, stealing Dee’s breath.

She’s not the “usual” type they get in the shop. Dee’s business usually attracts a younger group, singles in their mid-twenties who have the spare cash to afford her rates, and, occasionally, some older but experienced clients looking for something fresh. 

This woman doesn’t fit into either category. 

She’s stiff and unapproachable in her stark black suit, dark hair pulled into a bun so tight it’s like it’s challenging the wind to disturb a single strand. God, she’s even wearing heels and make sharp clicks with every step she takes toward the desk. Everything about her screams “business woman, extremely important and perpetually agitated.”

In other words, she’s the complete opposite of Deanna and Dee is hooked in an instant.

The woman offers a nervous smile as she steps closer, face transforming from threatening and aloof to a practiced and rigid friendliness. But Dee could barely afford to notice because she was instantly consumed by colors, namely the pink of the woman’s lips and her surreal blue eyes. 

“Hello.” The greeting comes in a voice far deeper than Dee expected and it curls low in her gut, making her shift in her seat.

Neither Charlie nor Dee can find it in them to reply and they just awkwardly blink at their guest. The woman’s smile begins to wilt and Dee wants to catapult herself into a black hole until Pamela chooses that moment to wander in from the back with a jarringly loud, “Well, hello there. Welcome to Femme Fatale.”

The woman looks to Pam, still nervous and rigid. “Hello,” she says again. "Do you take walk-ins?"

“Sure thing, ocean eyes," Pam says and Dee perks as the borderline purr in Pam’s voice. “Do you know what you want?”

The woman’s smile widens just a fraction. “Yes, actually. I, ugh-” she rummages through her purse, extracting a scrap of paper with trembling fingers- “I want this.”

Pam steps forward to take the paper and Dee and Charlie both lean to catch a glimpse of weird lettering that Dee recognizes almost immediately.

“Enochian?” she blurts.

The woman appears startled, eyes scanning Dee up and down and for a moment she almost looks impressed. “Yes,” she answers carefully.

Pam pops her lips. “Well, I’ve never done anything like it before, but I’m sure I can manage since Dee’s on her way o-”

“I can do it!” Dee says emphatically, leaping out her chair and taking the paper from Pam who grins knowingly. “I mean, I, ugh — I got it, Pam. No worries. We’ll just, ugh, get the paperwork out of the way first.”

Dee dutifully ignores eye contact with Charlie and Pam as she pulls out the standard contract and slides it across the desk for the woman to sign. It’s a quick exchange and soon Dee is taking the contract with a quick glance at it before filing it away.  
“All right, C-Castielle? Um, right this way.”

Castielle gives a sharp nod and passes the desk and the three women.

“Thought the great Deanna Winchester didn’t take walk-ins,” Charlie hisses under her breath.

“Fuck off,” Dee mutters through a tight smile and steps after her client to guide her to the right station.

Once they’re in Dee’s stall, Dee takes a breath, trying to draw in all the professionalism she can muster. This woman is gorgeous, possibly the most beautiful human being Dee has ever laid eyes on, but Dee is about to stick multiple needles in her skin and she needs to be focused.

She looks down at the paper in her hand. “So what does this mean?”

Castielle looks up from the photos decorating Dee’s walls. “It’s a protection spell,” she says, a tinge of embarrassment coloring her voice.  
“A spell?”

“I realize that may be odd…”

Dee holds up a hand. “You haven’t seen odd till you tattoo Captain America riding a My Little Pony on a grown man’s ass.”  
Castielle’s eyes blow wide. “That actually happened?”

Dee hums. “And that isn’t even the weirdest thing I’ve seen. I’m going to draw this up on some transfer paper. Where exactly did you want it?”

“Down the left side of my ribcage,” Castielle answers confidently.

Dee can’t help but pause on the way to her desk. “You sure?”

“Yes.” The response is simple and stern but Dee still hesitates. When Cas gives no sign of changing her mind, she just shrugs and sets to work.

She has the sample traced over in a few minutes, just enough time to let her sink comfortably into her professional headspace. 

All that is blown to shit when she turns around to find Castielle shirtless in her chair, looking oddly calm.

_So… tan,_ is all Dee can think as her eyes roam the expanse of Castielle’s abdomen, from the waist of her skirt to the cups of her black bra-

_Shit, shit, shit! No, Deanna! Bad! Do not ogle your clients!_

Dee takes another deep breath and eases her way to Castielle’s side. “So, ugh, I’m just gonna clean the area and then press this on your side and then you can tell me if you like the placement.”

All Castielle offers is a nod so Dee cleans her skin and carefully presses the paper to the disinfected area.

She gives the ink a moment to sink into the skin before pulling back and saying, “Okay, tell me what you think.”

Slowly, Castielle rises from the chair to stand before the full-length mirror. She studies the characters and smiles, but it’s different this time — almost relived, a little more genuine. “This will be perfect.”

Dee isn’t really sure how to respond to that so she says, “Okay. Let’s get to work.”

It takes about an hour. The second the needles pierces her skin, Castielle falls into a kind of silence Dee knows too well and she honors it by keeping her own mouth shut. 

Castielle handles the pain well, never flinching or moving away or even asking for a break. Dee has to pause a few times because her fingers are still hurting from Ash’s piece, but she powers through and then… 

“It…it’s amazing.”

Castielle is standing in front of the mirror again, and her posture relaxes for the first time as she barely resists touching the ink.

“No touching,” Dee snaps out of habit and tries to smile when Castielle’s hand drops to her side. “The, ugh, the skin is really sensitive right now and you don’t want to risk messing it up. Let me bandage you and, in a few days, you can touch it all you want.”

Castielle returns to the chair and let’s Dee apply the gauze. “You’re very talented,” she says softly.

Dee blinks, looking up and blushing at the sincerity in Castielle’s blue eyes. “Um, thank you.”

Charlie and Pam are still lurking up front when Dee leads Castielle to the register and Dee works hard to ignore their smug grins.

Castielle stands opposite the three women, pulling out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Dee falters at the initial amount she’s about to name, looking into those blue eyes and those damn perfect lips. “Ugh, with the, ugh, the placement and size it’ll be, um, a hundred.”

Something crushes into her foot and Dee bites a yelp as Castielle digs out her credit card. The exchange is quick and soon Castielle is shrugging back into her blazer. When she looks up, the chill is back in her eyes and her smile looks like it would crack if you poked it. 

“Thank you again for your time,” she says, tone overly formal and distant. 

“Y-yeah, no problem,” Dee says, beyond confused and, if she’s being honest, a little hurt. “Hope you like it.”

Castielle leaves without another word and even Charlie and Pam are put off for a second.

But only a second.

“A hundred bucks, huh?” Pam tsks. “You’re slipping, Winchester.”

Dee turns to her friends with mock outrage. “I am not! I was just being nice!”

“Nice?” Charlie cries. “You charge two-hundred an hour! You didn’t even give me that good of a discount.”

“It was her first tattoo,” Dee tries to defend herself. “And- and it wasn’t a commissioned piece! It didn’t even take a full hour!”  
Pam just laughs and takes off toward the back.

“You’re a weak woman, Deanna Winchester,” Charlie says with a disgusted shake of her head.

Dee looks out the front window to the crowd Cas disappeared into. She thinks of that short-lived smile, those blue eyes, and sighs. “I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

Phones ring incessantly through the symphony of keyboard clatter, pens scribbling, and soft voices mumbling just outside the door.

Castielle taps her fingers along the edge of her desk, trying to focus on the document in front of her, but the words keep slipping away without meaning. 

Her phone vibrates in the drawer. It’s the fifth time in an hour. She’s used to having her phone blowing up — comes with the job — but she knows who these messages are from. She knows what they are about. And she doesn’t want to acknowledge them.

She has work to do.

Work that should have been done hours ago, days ago if she cared about giving it the good old Novak treatment. If she cared to apply herself the way Mother always expects.

Her phone buzzes again and it makes her spine tingle as it wakes the memory of a different buzzing, something louder but more soothing. A sound that whispered pain into her skin while calming the storm in her mind.

She doesn’t even notice the way her hand drifts below, pressing to her side fondly.

“Ms Novak, I-”

Cas startles as her door is shoved open and a young woman slips inside, an apology in her smile. “Yes, Alex?”

“Sorry, Ms. Novak, but your brother is on line three,” Alex says. “He’s demanding to speak with you.”

Cas takes a deep breath, twists it into a tight smile. “Thank you.”

Alex gives a short nod and backs out of the office, and Cas watches the door pull shut with a held breath until it clicks and her face falls.

Her gaze shifts to the phone. A red light blinks at her and it’s soundless but still has an exasperated tone somehow.

She pushes the button. “Michael.”

“Castielle,” is the cool response that eases out of the speaker. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning.”

“Well, I was busy working, Michael, and believe it or not, I don’t need you to remind me of lunch plans. That’s what my secretary is for.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for my persistence, little sister, but you have a habit of… forgetting… when we don’t pester you.”

She hears the accusation in his voice and sneers. “You may rest assured that I have not forgotten.”

“Excellent,” Michael says. “Then I’ll see you in a few hours. Try not to get lost this time.”

The line goes dead and Cas takes a moment to just breathe.

Her fist clenches. 

She hates his fucking voice. There’s only one voice she hates more and she’ll be in the presence of both of them this afternoon and the thought makes her sick.

Her other hand pushes into her side until she feels a rib under her palm and she thinks of the words inked into her skin. 

_Prevent vessels and aethereal creatures from finding me. Swear to prevent ethers with song of battle and murder in their hearts from finding me._

Words to conceal. Words to protect. 

She can only pray there’s a little magic to them.

The time to leave her office comes too soon and there’s an ache in her to just send a text and explain she can’t make it after all. Too much work to do. It’s not even a lie. That same document lies on her desk, practically untouched.

But she can just imagine the consequences of skipping another lunch with Mother for the fourth time in a row. 

Not worth it.

She arranges to arrive as late as politely possible, bracing herself as she crosses the threshold into the restaurant and begins donning her armor. 

Shoulders back, chin up, strides long, eyes cold.

Don’t smile. 

_Breathe._

She hears her mother’s cool laughter before she sees her and follows the noise with sure steps, clenching the anxiety stirring in her chest and choking it down.

“-told him to fire the moron years ago. Maybe next time he’ll listen to me.” The woman speaking looks up and turns a level, blue gaze on Cas. Her lips turn down. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in.”

Three other pairs of eyes shift to watch Cas as she approaches their table. She refuses to offer a smile as she takes the empty chair across from her mother. It feels like lowering herself into an electric chair, like her death warrant is ingrained in the polished wood.

It always feels this way when facing Naomi Novak.

“Hello, Mother,” Cas greets pleasantly enough as she reaches for her water glass.

“You’re late,” Naomi says.

“Traffic,” is all Cas says before turning to her siblings. “Anna, Michael, Lucifer. Nice to see you.”

Michael and Lucifer respond with nods and it takes every ounce of strength Cas possesses not to roll her eyes. 

“Hey, Cas,” Anna says, the only spark of warmth at the table. “Busy day?”

“Yes. I’m reviewing a copyright claim.”

“Ooooooh, for who?” she asks, nudging Cas gently.

“Can’t talk about it.”

Anna’s pout nearly brings a smile to Cas’s face. Of all the siblings, Anna is perhaps the only one to come out not completely psychologically and emotionally ruined. She wasn’t a robot like Michael or Luke. She could smile, laugh, experience joy. But she was still driven and aggressive to the point of being ruthless if necessary. Sharp. 

She was everything Castielle was not.

“Don’t act like a child, Anna,” Naomi cuts in. “Castielle, what happened to your hair? You look like a hippie.”

Cas works hard not to run a hand through her hair. She wore it down today. She likes the way it tickles the back of her neck, the way it washes in front of her face.

“I like it,” Anna says, tugging lightly on a curl.

“Fix it.” Naomi’s tone leaves no room for argument but Cas hesitates, fists clenching in her lap. “Now, Castielle.”

She reaches up and pulls her hair into the tightest bun she can muster without a mirror, Anna reached up at some point to offer a hand. It pulls at her scalp but she doesn’t wince. 

Naomi appraises her with a nod. “Better. Now sit up straight. We’re about to eat.”

Not a word is spoken during the meal. There never is, not as long as Cas can remember. Dinners have always been a cold, silent affair in the Novak family, such a broken atmosphere you could finish a five-course meal and still be left feeling empty. 

Which is exactly how she feels once they finish eating and she prepares herself for the punch.

“We have most of the planning done,” Anna is saying. “We picked out the flowers last week — well, Mother did. Cake order is placed. Caterer is booked. It’s all coming together really well.”

“Still time to find a different groom,” Luke says under his breath.

Anna turns an icy glare on him. “I could say the same for brothers.”

“Luke is just looking out for you, Anna,” Michael tries to soothe. “Inias is getting far more out of this marriage than you. There are bound to be questions.”

“My fiancé isn’t a golddigger, Michael,” Anna snaps. “His family has their own money.”

Luke snorts and Cas is rubbing her side again. 

“Enough,” Naomi says and the three fall silent. “Castielle. Speaking of the wedding, have you found a date yet?”

Cas blinks at the questions. It’s not unexpected but all the underlying barbs and intrusions and judgments are still overwhelming. 

“No, Mother.”

Naomi smiles and it’s chilling. “I thought as much. Lucky for you, I’ve learned that the Adlers’ son, Bartholomew, doesn’t have a date either.”

It takes Cas just to her limit. She sits a little straighter. “I’m sure I can find someone whose a more decent fit for me.”

Three snorts resound around the table and Cas’s hand presses harder into her side. “I’d hardly describe any such person as ‘decent.’ No. You’ll go with Bartholomew.”

“I-”

“This is not up for discussion, Castielle,” Naomi says airily. “You will not embarrass your sister at her wedding with your weird… life style.”

Cas sits back, defeated.

She sits silently for the rest of the meal, barely registering when her mother and brothers stand, saying goodbye. She’s not sure if she says anything back.

Anna walks out of the restaurant with her, oddly quiet until they reach the street. 

“Cas, about what Mother said… you know I don’t- I’m not- it’s not a-” Anna cuts herself off and stares at Cas with sad blue eyes.

Cas nods. Because she knows. She gets it. Anna isn’t like the others but she’s just as powerless.

“Do you want a ride back to the office?”

She shakes her head this time, mind starting to spin until her eyes settle on something green. Bright green with shades of gold. Like eyes.  
Bright eyes and a crooked smile and sure hands and a soft buzzing noise in the background.

“No,” she finally says. “I have somewhere else to be.”

Anna looks suspicious but doesn’t ask. “Okay. I’ll see you in a few weeks for the fitting?”

“Of course.” 

Anna jumps into her car and Cas watches as it meanders into the downtown traffic and turns the block. As soon as it’s gone she pulls out her phone.

“Alex? I won’t be in for the rest of the day. Have the files sent to my apartment.”

The shop is just a half hour drive away. 

Cas feels odd as she climbs out of the taxi, like her face is sticky and clothes are stiff. She hates the way her heels click as she walks along the street but it’s soon washed away under the sound of bicycles peddling and skateboards skidding down the sidewalk, music, and pedestrian chatter. It swells around her the deeper she walks into the district until she feels lost in it. Unrecognizable. 

She sees the sign blink ahead of her and speeds toward it, 

The scent of the shop is the first thing that hits her as she steps inside and it catches her off guard again. She’s not quite sure what she expected a tattoo shop to smell like. Probably mildew and cigarette smoke from the look of the ones she’s seen in movies. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought it’d be on par with a Yankee Candle store.

Last time had been fruity but now it was a sweet vanilla scent. It was almost enough to make her stomach growl. 

“Welcome to Femme Fatale, how- hey! It’s you again.”

Cas looks at the small redhead sitting at the front desk. The myriad of piercings catch Cas’s attention first and she internally chastises herself for being rude and looks the woman in the eye, offering the only smile she can afford.

“Hello.”

“Didn’t think we’d ever see you again,” the redhead says.

 _Seems fair,_ Cas thinks. She knows she doesn’t look or give off the vibe of someone who invests in tattoos. She's still surprised at herself for being here. For feeling a need to be here.

“I need something.”

The woman lifts a pierced brow. “What can we do for you?”

“I was hoping to get another tattoo.”

“Well, you definitely came to the right place.” She looks down at the desk and tsks. “Pam is already working on someone. Dee should be back from lunch any minute but she only takes-”

The door jingles behind Cas just then and she turns and catches her breath. 

A blonde woman stumbles through, eyes a little crazed. “Damn kids are trying to kill me, Charlie, I swear to god I’m gonna start throwing rocks at the little… sh-shits…” She trails off as she looks up and meets Cas’s eyes and they’re just as beautiful as Cas remembers. So green and lively. Unlike anything she’s ever seen. 

She watches the way redness leaks up the woman’s neck and into her cheeks as she gapes, stuttering out a shaky “hi.”

“Hello, again,” Cas says, proud at the levelness in her voice. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Y-yeah, ugh, you too,” Deanna works out. “Um, is there- is there something wrong with your piece?”

“She wants another tattoo,” the redhead interjects. 

Deanna begins to nod. 

“But I was just telling her that Pam is busy and you only ta-”

“I can do it,” Deanna says quickly. 

“But what about-”

“I got it, Charlie, thank you.” Deanna has a tight smile and Cas arches a brow between the two of them.

Finally, the redhead, Charlie, laughs. “Whatever you say, boss.” She stands and disappears in the back.

Cas looks at Deanna. “Is now a bad time?”

“What? No! Definitely not. Um, let’s get your paperwork started and then we can head back.”

Cas studies the art on the walls as they walk back to Deanna’s station. Most of the images are sketches but some are photographs of tattoos. She wonders how many are Deanna’s designs, how long it took her to complete some of the larger ones. She marvels at the detail, at how realistic some of them look as if the shapes are pushing against the skin to come to life. They’re masterpieces. 

Deanna directs her to sit in the chair as she goes to her desk. “So, what will it be today?”

Cas hands over her phone to show Deanna the translation she’d found. Deanna lifts a brow as she reads but doesn’t make a comment on the meaning.

“Is this Russian?”

“Yes,” Cas confirms. “You really know your languages.”

Deanna shrugs. “You start to pick up on things in this line of work. Where do you want it?”

Cas looks down, pulls at her sleeves. “On my wrist.”

“Okay then. Roll up your sleeves. I’ll start drawing.”

Cas removes her jacket and rolls up her right sleeve as best she can. She remains silent as Deanna writes the translation onto the transfer paper, trying not to stare too much at the woman’s hand as she works. She has long fingers.

She’s a gorgeous woman in all, truly. Tan skin, dark blonde hair. Tattoos weave across her skin, peeping out around her clothing wherever it can and Cas tries to figure out all the shapes. She spots a vine spinning down Deanna’s right arm and flowering across her hand. There are little records behind her ear, some sigils behind the other. A quote flows across her left forearm, though Cas can’t catch all the words. _...watching over you..._

Deanna writes the quote small so it will fit in just a few lines across Cas’s wrist. She gives it her approval and then Deanna is washing her skin and giving it a wipe down with a wet cotton ball. 

“Long day at work?”

Cas blinks. “Hmm? Oh, no. Why do you ask?”

Deanna shrugs as she tosses the ball away. “Just look extra tired. No offense,” she hurries to say. “I just meant- you, ugh, it’s- never mind.” She seals her lips and turns away.

Cas’s heartbeat picks up while Deanna readies her instrument, that buzzing she’s been aching for vibrating through the room. When Deanna turns around, all the nerves and awkwardness is gone, her eyes crystal focused and Cas takes a deep breath. 

“You ready?” Deanna asks.

“Yes.”

Cas’s heartbeat picks up while Deanna readies her instrument, that buzzing she’s been aching for vibrating through the room. When Deanna turns around, all the nerves and awkwardness is gone, her eyes crystal clear and she slides her gloved hand over Cas’s arm, holding tight. 

To say it doesn’t hurt would be a lie. The first time she had felt that burning pressure beating into her ribcage, Cas had lost her breath, had fought every urge to flinch or make a sound. 

Now the low humming of the machine echoes in her ears and she takes a deep breath, fist clenching in Deanna’s grip as the needles burn a trail of ink into her skin like black fire. 

“Just breathe,” Deanna murmurs over the buzzing and Cas looks down at her, catches her eye for the briefest moment as she leans up to wipe at Cas’s wrist and dive back in. 

_Just breathe._

Cas inhales again. Exhales. She closes her eyes and lets the humming carry her senses, smells the tropical scent of Deanna’s shampoo, hears her soft breathing, feels the way her fingers flex on Cas’s arm whenever she starts to tense. Just a comforting little squeeze every once in a while that reminds Cas.

_Just breathe._

The rest slowly melts away, all the thoughts and snide voices, all the responsibilities and dreaded tasks.

_Breathe._

They fade away until there’s nothing but the hum, the burn, and the warmth of Deanna’s touch. 

Then they’re all gone too and Cas’s eyes open, blinking at the bright overhead light as her surroundings come back into focus.

“You still with me, sleepy?”

Deanna rolls away and tells her take a look as she does, eyes devouring the fresh ink that still looks wet and the red, irritated skin surrounding it. Soaks in the words and their bittersweet interpretation.

“Ya know, you take this surprisingly well,” Deanna says as she bandages the tattoo. “For someone whose only just started getting tattoos, I mean.”

Cas isn’t completely sure if that’s a compliment or some sort of suspicion. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Let’s go settle the bill and get you out of here.”

Climbing out of the chair is a little difficult because her legs feel numb and her mind is still lulled into a dreamlike state. But she makes it out and follows Deanna up front where she hands over her credit card.

“Well, it was good seeing you again,” Deanna says and Cas picks up the tremor in her voice, the shift of her eyes. She’s nervous again.

Cas realizes this could just be the way woman normally is once her instrument is out of her hand. When her power is gone. Anxious. Squirrely. But there’s something deep in Cas’s chest that wants to take ownership of the way Deanna swallows and looks away, the way her hand trembles when she hands back Cas’s credit card.

“You as well, Deanna. I hope you have a nice day.”

That trembling hand rises to rubs the back of her neck. “Ugh, thanks.”

Cas lets herself out on the street, gives her wrist a little shake as she's swept into the tide of strangers. The skin echoes with a gentle sting and Cas pulls it close to her chest and sucks in a deep breath and for a few hours it's like breathing in a new body.


	3. Chapter 3

“For the last time, Charlie, I am not letting you pierce my nipples,” Dee cries.

“But it would be so hot, Dee,” Charlie says. “And you’ve seen Pam’s! You know I’m good at it.”

“It’s not a question of you being good, Charlie.” The redhead had done just about all of Dee’s piercings over the years: nose, tongue, brow, belly button — that had only lasted about half a summer. “I don’t want metal rods in my nipples!”

The redhead pouts. “You’re no fun at all.”

“I’ll remember that the next time we’re touching up your Princess Leia piece.”

Charlie’s eyes go big. “Wait, Dee, no. I didn’t mean it, you’re the funnest person I know-”

“Ugh huh.”

The women fall silent.

It’s been a slow day. Too rainy for people to be walking down the strip or idly stopping in the shop for a quick look and Dee’s only appointment of the day had ended hours ago. It was a chest piece for a sweet-looking dude who had rolled through the shop last year. He wanted to look like his chest was ripped open, wanted to wear his heart on his skin. It was a great commission but the need for detail was exhausting and sometimes nauseating.

So much red.

“Think we should just close?” Dee thinks aloud.

Charlie hums into the silence of the shop. “We could go see a movie.”

“Sounds better than moping around here all afternoon.”

Dee rises to go lock the door and flip the sign when something bright blue pops in the front door and she reels back with a screech.  
“What happened?” Charlie yells.

A second later the door opens and a woman in a dark suit and tan trench coat walks in, hurrying to close her umbrella and look up-

“Cas!” Dee exclaims, still a little shaken. “Oh my god, hey!”

“Hello, Deanna,” Cas replies evenly, somehow looking dignified even while soaking wet.

“What, ugh, what are you doing here? In this kind of weather?”

Cas’s head falls to the side curiously. “I was hoping to get another tattoo,” she says as if it’s obvious.

And, okay, it was.

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

“You are still open, aren’t you?” Cas wonders, her eyes flying over Dee’s shoulder where Charlie is standing with her jacket and bag.

“Yeah! Yep, definitely.” Dee nods a little too enthusiastically. “Charlie’s shift is just over. Come on in. I’ll get you started.”

Charlie just shakes her head as Dee approaches the desk. “Not a word,” she grumbles under her breath.

“You’re pathetic,” Charlie bites back. “Have a good night,” she says a little louder, passing a cheerful smile to Cas on her way out the front door.

Dee pulls out a contract and passes it to Cas who signs quickly and then they’re walking back to Dee’s station.

It’s been weeks since Cas’s last visit, which had thrown Dee for a loop. She’d never expected to see the woman again, had almost gotten those blue eyes out of her head. But there she’d been, standing in the middle of the shop like a modern goddess, chin high and eyes steely. Dee nearly tripped coming through the damn door.

Now here she was again, and the nerves were back full force.

“You were leaving, weren’t you?” Cas asks as they reach Dee’s station.

Dee’s mouth instantly opens with a lie on her tongue but she sees Cas’s arched brow and knows she’s been caught. “Yeah. But it’s not a big deal,” she’s quick to explain. “We were leaving early. Slow day.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Dee waves the comment off as she sits on her stool. “Hey, wouldn’t have opened a tattoo shop if I didn’t want to ink all day, ya know?”  
“You own this shop?” Cas asks, sounding genuinely intrigued as she pulls off her coat and blazer.

 

“Yep,” Dee answers and pulls out some transfer paper. “Opened it about six years ago. Soon as I finished college. So, what kind of art are we making today? Something in Gaelic? Ancient Greek?”

Cas’s eyes shift down to her lap and it’s the closest thing to shy Dee has ever seen on her. “No. Actually, I’d like… to get a bee.”

“A bee?”

“Yes. Behind my ear.”

Dee has a unicorn inked in the bisexual flag colors on her left hip. She isn’t one to judge.

“Were you thinking something cartoonish or more realistic?”

Cas ponders for a few moments. “Something in between, I suppose. I don’t want it to look like there’s an actual insect on me, but I don’t want anything with big, cheesy eyes either.”

Dee purses her lips. “All right. Let me sketch a few out and we’ll see if I can draw something you like.”

She turns to her desk and spins a pen between her fingers, taking just a minute to brainstorm before she’s putting ink to paper.   
“What did you study?”

Dee doesn’t even pause in her strokes. “Hmm?”

“In college. What did you study? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Uh, I majored in fine arts with a minor in business.”

Cas makes a sound of understanding. “You were preparing for this.”

“Been my dream since I was twelve.”

“That’s very impressive.”

Dee moves on to the next bee, putting a little more detail into the wings. “What about you? Which fancy school did your family make you go to?”

“Why do you think they made me?” Cas asks, her tone wary.

“Because you smile like someone whose had to pretend to be happy their entire life.”

The answer is instant and Dee doesn’t even realize that she may have crossed a line as she fills in the stripes on another little bee. 

“Also, your posture and the way you speak. It’s way too formal for someone destined to be middle management. You were probably groomed for a high-stress career and those fancy suits from the day you were born. Prep schools, expensive tutors, the whole nine yards.” Dee finishes the last bee and spins on her stool. “Let me guess: Yale?”

Cas is looking off to the side, appearing a little lost as she gazes at the expanse of Dee’s greatest work. She sniffs. “Columbia, actually.”

“But where’d you go to law school?”

Blue eyes snap back around. “How did you…?” Dee just raises a brow. “Yale,” Cas admits, looking away again.

Dee doesn’t miss the tension in Cas’s shoulders as she rolls closer. She bites her lips for a second before blurting, “My little sister is a second-year law student at Stanford.”

The slight change of subject works like a charm and Cas visibly relaxes. “That’s quite a feat.”

“Yeah,” Dee says wistfully. “I’m proud of her. So, what do you think of these?”

Cas takes the transfer paper and looks over Dee’s designs. “This one,” she decides and Dee nods in approval. 

“Which ear?”

“My right.”

In just a few minutes, Dee has the design behind Cas’s ear and is prepping her machine. 

It’s a simple enough design, basically just a stripped oval with four little wings and some antennae. It’s almost childish, especially on a woman like Cas.

“Ya know,” Dee starts as she presses the tip of the machine to Cas’s skin, “the one thing I can’t figure out about you is why you come here.”

“Well, you’re a tattoo shop…”

Dee looks up briefly, unamused. “No, I mean why tattoos all of a sudden? Most people start in their teens or early twenties. You’re obviously some established hot shot-”

“Did you just imply that I’m old?”

“-so why the sudden interest in tattoos?”

Something that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle comes from Cas. “I don’t know,” she says after a considerable silence. “I suppose I just needed a change or a…”

Dee hums knowingly. “Seeking a release.”

“What?”

“You aren’t the first person to wander into a tattoo shop right after work.” Dee squints and leans a bit closer as she works out the fine lines of bee’s wings. “Sometimes you just need something big or different, even a little painful, to keep you going. Some people drink, some work out, some get tattoos.”

She carefully traces the lines inside the wing, making them as thin and light as possible.

“Seeking a release,” Cas mumbles, her voice sounding far away. “What is yours?”

“My release?” Dee has to pause for a second. “I guess it used to be piercings. Used to have dozens.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, never let Charlie get her hands on you.”

Cas makes that soft sound again but manages to keep her head still. “And what about now?”

“Cooking.”

“Cooking?” Dee doesn’t miss the edge of surprise in Cas’s tone.

“Hey, I know I don’t look it, but I could stomp Paula Deen’s ass any day.”

Cas’s laugh is bolder this time and it makes Dee grin ear to ear.

The conversation veers into silence and Dee is a little disappointed but grateful for what she got. Compared to last two times, Cas has practically been a chatterbox so far.

She has a nice voice, Dee thinks. Soothing and a little raspy. Dee almost misses it.

The bee only takes about twenty minutes. Dee adds the finishing touches and rolls away to grab the hand mirror so Cas can take a look.  
She goes to the full-length mirror, holds her hair out of the way and angles her body so she can catch the reflection. Her finger instantly rises but just touches the area right beneath the tattoo and Dee bites the warning on her tongue.

“Why a bee?” Dee wonders, unable to repress the question for another minute.

Cas takes a moment to reply, her finger running closer to the lines but treading carefully. Dee can only see about half of her face but she spots the barest curve of a smile.

“Because they make me happy.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for homophobia, mentions of past child abuse and conversion therapy.

The boutique smells like champagne and expensive perfume that irritates Cas’s nose.

She sits on the plush couch, legs crossed, and a vice-like grip on her flute as her sister’s friends storm the shop, tearing dress after dress off the racks and disputing colors.

“I said emerald, Hannah, not jade,” Anna barks. “The colors are _emerald_ and gold.”

Cas takes a sip from her glass and kind of wishes it was cyanide.

Anna eventually catches on to her lack of participation and flops down on the couch next to her. “You’re missing out on all the fun, Cassie.”

“That’s subjective.”

Anna laughs and leans into her. “The maid of honor needs to be a little more involved.”

“To be fair, I told you to choose a different person.” It was the first thing to come out of her mouth when Anna had asked.

Anna sighs. “Like it or not, Cas, you’re my sister and it would mean a lot to mean if you could actually be here. Not just present.”

The plea stirs something in Cas’s stomach and she looks at Anna. “And how should I do that?”

“Just… say something. Speak up. Voice your opinion. Tell me I look pretty.”

Cas almost snorts. “Anna, you look beautiful and your wedding is going to look like the set of ‘Wizard of Oz.’”

Anna gives a bitter laugh and reaches for her own champagne. “I know,” she sighs before taking a long drink. “But it’s the only color Mother said would compliment my _obnoxious_ hair.”

Something akin to pity tightens in Cas’s chest because she has no doubt her mother used that actual word and then some. “She still tells you to dye it.”

“Every damn day.”

“Hey, Anna, what about this one?” Hael asks, holding up a cocktail dress.

Anna regards it ruefully. “Sure, Hael, as long as you’re fine with my mother calling you a Vegas whore all night.” Hael’s smile wilts away and hides the dress back on a rack. Anna sighs. “Come on, let’s pull some more so we can get the fuck out of here.”

It takes another hour for Anna to find a collection of dresses that fit her and their mother’s tastes. Cas can’t help but marvel at how much control Naomi Novak has even when she isn’t present. Not surprising in the least, but still impressive in a miserable sort of way.

“Okay, Hannah, you try the one with the sash,” Anna instructs. “Hael you take the knee-length. Cas, the gown.”

Cas waits until she’s alone in the dressing room to wrinkle her nose at the ridiculous expanse of fabric. It’s beautiful, she can admit, but there isn’t a single part of her that wants to put it on and parade around in it for people to critique and objectify.

She removes her suit slowly and steps into the gown, never bothering to hurry even when she hears the other girls come out and Anna shuts them down.

“Are you doing all right, Ms Novak?” the consultant calls from the other side of the curtain.

“I’m fine,” Cas responds, fixing her hair.

She’s had to do her hair differently since getting the bee tattoo, pulls it back so her hair still covers her ears. Of course Naomi had had choice words the first time she’d seen it and it had almost been laughable how something so small could earn her mother’s sharp tongue.

“Jesus, Cas, did the dress eat you?” Anna yells. “Hurry up!”

With a sigh, Cas emerges from the dressing room, pulling up the dress so she doesn’t trip over the hem. The consultant guides her to the podium between the couch and wall of mirrors and she stands there like a statue while the girls look her over.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Hannah breathes.

The consultant rambles off the terms Cas doesn’t understand. She just watches her sister who is surprisingly quiet.

“Anna?” Cas asks. “What to you think?”

Anna meets her eyes. “I don’t know, what do you think, Cassie?”

Cas almost frowns, getting an odd feeling that something is being pulled from under her. But she holds it together as she says, “I like it.”

Anna’s smile is slow. “So do I.”

“We’ll set this one aside, then, and try to find more with this silhouette,” the consultant says.

Cas nods and steps down from the podium, gliding back into the dressing room and she can still feel Anna’s gaze when the curtain closes.  
She hears the girls wander off to look at more dresses and releases a breath before her hand reaches for the zipper.

“Oh my god, I knew it!”

Cas whirls around, just barely suppressing a screech as Anna charges into the dressing room. She has a fascinated smile as she reaches for Cas’s wrists and Cas is too startled to remember why she should stop her until it’s too late.

Anna gasps when she sees the tattoo and Cas tears her wrist away, holding it to her chest. “Anna, please-”

“You got a tattoo,” Anna almost yells with excitement. “Oh my god, Cas, you-”

Cas gestures for her to be quiet but Anna is laughing now, her eyes nearly hysterical.

“I can’t believe it, Cas, oh my god. I mean, a tattoo! That’s-”

Cas drops her wrist to press a hand to her sister’s mouth. “Be quiet,” she hisses and Anna seems to finally get it because she nods.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She squeals softly, taking Cas’s wrist again to peer at the words on her skin. “A tattoo,” she breathes. “I thought I saw something on your wrist when you were getting on the podium and I was right. Wow!”

“You’re… not mad?”

Anna snorts. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

Cas gives a small shrug. “I thought you would disapprove.”

“What? No way! This is fucking awesome, Cassie! You know, I almost got a tattoo in college.”

“Really?”

Anna hums. “Yeah, but turns out I’m kind of afraid of needles so it didn’t work out.” Anna’s thumb runs over the ink. “Is this your first?”

Cas hesitates before answering, wondering if this is really the subject she should be completely honest about with her sister. Lies run easily off the tongue in this family.

Apparently her silence answers for her. “It’s not!” Anna concludes. “Oh my god, show me the others.”

Cas hates how shaky she is as she finishes unzipping the dress and reveals her ribcage to Anna who gasps again. Then she turns and lips her hair to show her bee.

“Three,” Anna breathes like she’s in wonder. “I can’t believe it.”

Cas let’s the dress drop and begins pulling on her clothes. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“Like who? Mother?” Anna dismisses the thought with a wave. “I don’t want to be present for that conversation any more than you do.”  
The tightness in Cas’s chest finally starts to dissolve and she breathes easier. “Thanks, Anna.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Mom’s on her way.”

The tightness returns tenfold. “What? I thought you said she wasn’t coming.”

Anna’s smile is almost apathetic. “We all like to dream, Castielle. Cover that up.” She points to Cas’s wrist before slipping out of the stall.  
Cas watches the curtain sway, a hand moving through her hair to grip tightly until she stops shaking.

She pulls on her jacket and reaches for the champagne flute.

Naomi storms into the boutique like a blizzard, turning spines rigid and freezing smiles in place. She tears through Anna’s picks without a single hello and has the consultant in near tears in less than ten minutes.

Anna is smiling and nodding through it all, agreeing with their mother on all accounts until the moment Naomi turns her back and Anna shoots a dirty look over her shoulder toward Cas who lifts her glass in response.

Anna’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you have any suggestions, Castielle?” she asks louder than what was necessary and Cas’s eyes turn to slits.  
“After all, you’ll be wearing whatever we pick.”

Naomi spins around, eyes like lasers as they settle on her youngest daughter. “Yes, Castielle, what do you think?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine with whatever you decide,” Cas says as evenly as she can before draining her glass and tipping it toward the consultant.

She doesn’t miss the way her mother tracks her movements or the cruel twist to her smile in response. “Come now, I’m sure you have some opinions to share.”

And maybe it’s the bubbles in her head but something makes Cas say, “They would be about as useful as us pretending that Anna ever had a chance to be in charge of her own wedding.”

All movement seems to stop and Cas watches her mother’s eyes frost. The barest stirring of fear sours Cas’s gut but it’s difficult to feel through the tingles and the warmth coursing through her blood like an old friend.

“Castielle. A word.”

If Cas has a little trouble standing no one can really tell. She tries to remember the number of drinks she’s had in the last hour as she follows her mother to a secluded area of the shop. Five? Six?

Not nearly enough, she decides as Naomi turns on her.

“I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but you had better straighten up before I-”

The laugh comes without Cas’s permission and she covers her mouth as if she can take it back.

“What’s so funny?” Naomi demands.

Cas laughs again. “Straighten.”

“Excuse me?”

Naomi doesn’t look the least bit amused so Cas squares up and explains, “You told me to ‘straighten up,’ which works two ways in our situation because I’m gay and you’re homophobic. It’s like a pun, Mother.”

If Naomi was angry before she is enraged now. “Do not say that word.”

“What? Gay?” Cas sighs, feeling a physical exhaustion at this age old argument. “Are we really still not past this? It’s been fourteen years, Mother, you’re going to have to accept it at some point. I like women, okay? Only women. And I will never want anything to do with a man in any-”

Cas isn’t ready for the hand that cracks across her face, the way it leaves her skin on fire and her head ringing, the unbridled fury that rages in her mother’s eyes burning away at the clouds in Cas’s head until she’s seeing perfectly clear again.

“You will not talk to me that way,” Naomi says in a cold whisper.

But there’s a fire in Cas now too and she steps toward her mother. “Like what? Honestly?”

Naomi barks with laughter. “You’re not being honest; you’re just sick.”

The word sends Cas careening back like she can avoid the onslaught of memories it carries with it. The lectures, the therapy, the camps.

“I’m not sick,” she says with as much confidence as she can. “You’re the sick one. For not being able to accept this. For making me go through hell just so you can keep pretending that your family is perfect and that you’re a good mother.”

“There’s always been something wrong with you,” Naomi hisses. “Ever since you were a child. Could never do a single thing right and now look at you. It’s the same constant disappointment and disgust.”

“Then it seems like we’re a great match for each other because I’ve felt the same about you every miserable second of my life.”

Cas forces the words out with all the strength she has left and turns on her heel. Her steps are fast and sure as she sweeps up her purse and makes a bee line for the door without another word or even a glance at her mother or sister.

She manages to hold herself together until she’s safe in the walls of her home, where it’s okay to crumble and scream and throw things. To cry and pull at her hair and dig her nails into her arms so she can feel something other than the suffocating shame swelling in her gut.

_You’re just sick._

Naomi’s cruel voice echoes in her mind and she flinches in her nest of sheets and pillows.

How many times had she heard that growing up?

_You’re just sick._

_It’s a phase._

_We can cure you._

_They’ll make it better, Castielle._

And how many times had she resisted only to be crushed?

_You disgust me._

_The angels will punish you, child._

And they had. They still were.

Cas had fallen from grace a long time ago. Maybe it was time to stop trying to crawl her way back up.

She reaches for her phone with shaky fingers, finds the number she needs.

“Hello, Deanna. This is Castielle Novak. I would like to schedule a consultation with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dee sits with her notebook in her lap, spinning a pencil through her fingers as she watches the clock.

“Why are you trying to set the clock on fire with your eyes?”

She rolls her eyes as Charlie wanders out of the back with her customer.

“I’m not,” she says, scooting out of the way. “I’m waiting for my next appointment.”

Charlie counts the cash handed to her, thanks the gentleman for the generous tip, and wishes him a good day. She slowly sinks once he’s out of shop, visibly deflating. “If I have to do one more Prince Albert in my lifetime…”

Deanna snickers. “Why do you even offer it if you don’t like doing it?”

“Because I am a well-rounded professional piercer,” Charlie says petulantly.

“Riiiight.”

“Shut up. Who are you meeting with today?”

Dee smiles brightly. “Cas.”

One red eyebrow arches. “She made an appointment for once? Oh no, did you guys break up? I’m so sor-”

Dee throws the pencil at Charlie’s head and the redhead squeaks. “Oh, bite me, Charlie.”

Charlie laughs and picks up the pencil, setting it on the desk a safe distance from Dee. “What’s she coming in for?”

“A consultation. She wants to commission a back piece from me. Wings”

Charlie’s whistle is long and sharp. “I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t reek of money, but those get pretty expensive.”

“I know,” Dee says. “Not to mention huge. Most of her tattoos this far are tiny. I started sketching last night, playing with size, but I don’t think the small sets are going to work.” Dee flips through her pages as she speaks, scrunching her nose.

Cas’s out-of-the-blue call had been two weeks ago and Dee’s mind has been reeling with curiosity ever since. To go from a bumble bee behind the ear to wings on your back was a massive step and she’d tried her best to talk Cas into working up to something like that. But the woman had shut Dee down with a cold “goodnight” and hung up the phone.

Dee had been stunned — and mildly offended. But by the next morning she’d chalked it up to a bad day and started sketching.

Because if Cas was going to trust her to put a pair of wings on her back, they were going to be the most beautiful goddamn wings Deanna could conjure, more beautiful than Lucifer’s own.

She’d sketched everything from big and fluffy to long and graceful, some that would arch across Cas’s shoulders as if she was always about to take flight, and quite a few that would stretch down the length of Cas’s back right to her tailbone, maybe bring a feather or two toward her ribs to brush her Enochian tattoo. She thinks Cas might like that.

“You sure you have the time to take on another project like this?” Charlie asks.

Dee startles, looking up from her book. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, it’ll be fine. I mean, we’ll have to pace the appointments a few weeks apart anyway so she has time to heal and I have some free time if I really need to- what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Charlie runs her eyes up and down Dee with a slight look of disapproval. “You just want to see her with her shirt off.”

Dee goes red in an instant. “Charlie!” Dee shrieks. “Oh my god, get out of here before-”

As if summoned, Cas steps into the shop them, chilling the room with a single once-over.

She doesn’t know what’s wrong she just knows that something is very wrong as Cas approaches them, not even bothering to smile out of politeness.

“Hello.”

Charlie and Dee share a look before Charlie backs away, mumbling something about needing to clean her station and Dee is suddenly facing winter alone.

She tries to work up a smile. “Ugh, hi, Cas. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. Shall we get started?”

The walk back to Dee’s station is quiet and she doesn’t hear a peep from Pamela or Charlie. She invites Cas to sit on the extra stool at her desk while Dee takes the other and their knees touch for a moment. Then Cas is rolling back, crossing her legs, folding her hands in her lap.

Dee swallows. Okay.

“So I’ve been working on a few sketches since you called,” she starts, just launching into the meeting. She lays her sketchbook out on the table between them, scooting it closer to Cas. “These are just you can get an idea of what some of our options are but also so I can know what you’re thinking in terms of size and style.”

Cas stares at the drawings, her face unreadable, which sets Dee on edge. She takes the time to study the other woman, taking in the bags under her eyes, the hard set of her jaw. She looks so uncomfortable and for the life of her, Dee can’t understand why. She had thought they’d been getting along; close even.

Apparently she’d been wrong.

When Cas doesn’t respond after a full minute, Dee clears her throat. “Ugh, I was kind of leaning toward this pair.” She points to a sketch of long wings, the ones that dip toward the waist. “That is, if you wanted to go this big. We could do a lot of cool detail in the feathers, really define the layers so they look beautiful and-”

“I don’t want them to be beautiful.”

Dee blinks a few times. “Huh?”

Cas keeps her yes trained on the sketchbook. “I don’t want them to be beautiful.”

Dee still isn’t quite sure what to say to that so instead she picks up her pencil and flips to a new page. “Okay. Then what kind of wings do you want?”

Cas’s lips thin as she stares, eyes flicking up toward the ceiling briefly. “Large and dark; something to take up my entire back.”

Dee purses her lips but lets her pencil move, drawing the outline of the wings.

“The feathers should be long and jagged,” Cas continues. “Frayed. Like they've been burned. Molting away.”

A frown creases Dee's brows as she breaks up the outline, giving the wings a ruffled, unkempt appearance. The layers of feathers are thin, some just barely hanging on.

“Broken,” Cas says. “Damaged.”

Dee’s hand stops moving and she looks up. “Cas?”

Cas doesn’t acknowledge the concern in her voice. “The wings of a broken angel.”

“Are these supposed to be like Lucifer’s wings?”

Cas’s lips curl but it's too small and icy to be called a smile. “No. This angel was never that beloved.”

It takes everything in Dee to finish the sketch without arguing or asking another question. When’s it’s done, she feels cold and can’t bare to look at it.

Cas pulls it toward her and she’s quiet for several breaths in which Dee is barely managing to stay in her own skin. She looks down at her fingers and wonders what she’s gotten herself into.

“These will do.”

The words reach across the space between them and settle into Dee like a slap in the face. The tense worry she’s been carrying since Cas entered her store wavers into the first stirrings of irritation as she looks up with an arched brow.

“They’ll do?” she echoes.

“Yes,” Cas says airily. “When can we begin to actual tattoo?”

Dee’s fists clench in her lap and all her empathy is dissipating.

She’s had a lot of different reactions to her art over the years. Most had been positive ranging from delighted to mind-numbingly impressed. Of course there had been the negative ones. But she’d never been hit with a “these will do” and coming from Cas just makes it all the worse.

But she bites her tongue and reaches for her calendar, flipping through the pages with deliberate ease. “April 14th is my first availability.”

And finally — _finally_ — she gets a reaction. Cas sits up so straight it’s amazing her back doesn’t snap and her eyes are hard as they fight with Dee’s. “That’s two months from now.”

Dee gives a small shrug and leans back. “What can I say? I’m in high demand.”

“You’ve never made me wait that long before.”

“Because all of your tattoos so far have been an hour or less and never interfered with my schedule,” Dee says. “This piece is twenty-plus hours of work. We’re talking multiple five- to seven-hour sessions. I can’t just drop everything and pencil you in.”

There’s a spark for just a heartbeat before Cas schools her face into something unreadable and tense, like she’ll crack if she smiles. “What if I offer to pay double?”

Dee’s fists tighten. “No.”

They held each other’s eyes for a long, tense moment before Cas leans back. “Fine, then. I’ll clear my schedule for April 14th. And how will the rest of the sessions follow?”

“Saturdays are best for me. You?”

“I can do Saturdays.”

“Great.” Dee grabs for her pen. “So I’ll have you April 22nd and 29th, then May 6th. I’m also gonna reserve the 13th just in case we need extra time.”

“Those are each a week a part,” Cas points out.

“Yeah,” Dee agrees.

“I can’t wait a month for this.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to. I have to factor in heal time and, honestly, you’re lucky I’m only making it a week.”

Cas breathes in deeply and Dee knows she’s hitting something. “Very well,” is Cas’s clipped response.

“Awesome. I have you scheduled. As for payment, I charge $200 an hour. We’re talking a minimum of twenty hours so it’ll be at least $4,000. That okay with you?”

“Of course.”

“Great!” Dee says with false cheer. “Then we’re all done here. Leave your contact info with Charlie up front. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

The fluidity with which Cas stands would usually be attractive but now it’s just intimidating as she reaches her full height and glares down at Dee with eyes like ice. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Winchester.”

She knows it’s meant to hurt but Dee if nothing if not a stubborn and often petty son of a bitch. She throws a wink. “Anything for you, Ms. Novak. Have a good one.”

Cas spins on her heel and marches from Dee’s station. Dee is still until she hears the jingling of the front door opening and then burrows her head in her arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas barely registers the vase of red roses adorning her desk as she walks into her office.

“Alex, why are these here?” she calls over her shoulder.

The young girl runs in and smiles brightly. “They were delivered this morning, Ms. Novak.”

“Yes, but why?” She frowns at them as she takes her seat.

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day, ma’am.”

It takes Cas by surprise at first and she raises her brows at the flowers.

“Do you have special plans tonight, Ms. Novak?” Alex asks, still smiling.

Cas nearly laughs at the thought. “Just work.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Alex sounds genuinely saddened and Cas frowns. Since when do people still care about Valentine’s Day?

Instead of responding, she dismisses the girl and turns to her computer. She finally managed to get into a good headspace to focus on her work last night and she’s thriving in it, trying to tackle as many things as she can before it leaves her again.

Focusing has been more or less a problem lately. No need to wonder why.

She hasn’t seen or heard from Deanna in weeks, which isn’t necessarily abnormal for them. Cas goes weeks between tattoos. But this time feels different. Heavier. Awkward.

There last meeting still weighs heavy on Cas’s mind. They hadn’t parted amenably. Cas had never seen such stubbornness in the blonde woman before, but even in her own state, Cas had recognized the signs of hurt. Defensiveness.

Cas had obviously said something to offend Deanna but she’d been too involved in her own thoughts to think of how or even care to fix it at the time. But, god, what she wouldn’t give to go back and change the shadow that had passed through Deanna’s lovely eyes.

Now she has nearly two months until the next time she sees the woman and it makes something in Cas’s chest feel empty but painfully full at the same time.

But she can’t afford to think about Deanna or her green eyes and freckle-kissed skin right now.

She manages to make it through the morning thanks to a series of meetings. She absolutely loathes them but they keep her on her toes as the minutes tick by.

It’s close to noon when the day seems like it’s all about to go to shit.

“Ms. Novak,” comes Alex’s voice on her speaker. “A Mr. Bartholomew Adler is here to see you.”

Cas’s nose scrunches instantly and she chases it away.

“Send him in.”

She leans back in her chair and breathes steadily as the door swings open and a blond man struts through, fake smile at the ready. Cas returns it as best she can, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. “Bartholomew. How nice to see you again.”

“Castielle,” he replies. “You’re looking lovely.”

His compliment makes her skin crawl. They always have.

“What can I do for you?” she asks.

“Well, when you didn’t respond to my lunch invitation, I thought I’d stop by in person to ask you out.”

“What lunch invitation?”

Bartholomew reaches over toward the roses Cas has pushed to the edge of her desk, and plucks the white card out before sliding it toward Cas. “If you’d opened the card, you’d know.”

Cas doesn’t bother taking the card, but tries angling an apology in her smile. “Sorry. Things have been pretty busy around here.”

He nods. “I completely understand. But I would greatly appreciate your company this afternoon. I thought we could discuss a few things. Like the wedding.”

Cas taps her foot lightly against the desk. “What about it?”

“Since we’ll be attending together, I thought we-”

Cas nearly rolls her eyes because of course this is still happening. “Bartholomew, stop. I’m sorry, but there’s been a horrible lack of communication. I’m not attending the wedding with you.”

A single blond brow twitches. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I informed my mother weeks ago. I apologize that she failed to contact you and hope you understand.”

The derisive snort is expected. “I see. Finally learning to stick up to Mommy dearest, huh?”

It’s clear bait but Cas leans away from it. “We all have to grow up at some point, don’t we?”

“Should I even bother to ask who you’ll be bringing instead?”

That barb sinks a little deeper. “Most likely no one as I’m the maid of honor and will be busy most of the night. However, if I do find a guest, you can rest assured that their identity is absolutely none of your business.”

Bartholomew laughs coldly, shaking his head. “Oh, Castielle. You’ve always been a piece of work.”

She smiles tightly. “So I’ve been told. Good luck finding a date, Bartholomew.”

He recognizes the dismissal for what it is and stands. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Happy Valentine’s Day, Castielle.”

She doesn’t bother responding. Just watches him carefully as he slips out of her office and closes the door behind him. The second it clicks shut, she stands and dumps the roses into the trash, sending the card right after them, growling at the corny cupid caricature decorating the front.

Cas hasn’t spoken to her mother since the bridal boutique. Not for lack of her mother’s trying, which had nearly surprised Cas at first. Before she remembered that it had nothing to do with her mother being forgiving or genuinely caring about her child — hell, just the fact that she hadn’t called the Alders tells Cas that Naomi hadn’t taken one word Cas had said to heart.

She’s simply trying to get work done. And Cas is still her biggest project.

Cas sways in her chair, eyes glancing over the file she needs to reopen.

The headspace is gone.

Her cellphone rings and she glares at it before answering the unknown number. “Hello?”

A familiar voice greets her and eases something in Cas’s mind as she listens. She hangs up with a smile and pages Alex.

“Have the case files sent to my apartment please. It looks like I have Valentine’s Day plans after all.”


	7. Chapter 7

“No, Sammy, I’ll just drive down this the weekend. It’s faster than you taking the bus anyway.”

Dee swerves around a couple holding hands, shooting them a dirty look over her shoulder as Sam talks.

“But it’s my turn to come visit you,” comes her sister’s tinny voice over the phone.

“Sam, seriously, it’s a forty-minute drive. Thirty with my driving,” Dee adds with a cheeky grin Sammy can’t see.

But Sam must have sensed it because Dee can practically hear her eye roll as she says, “Yeah, I get it Ricky Bobby. You drive fast. Dee, I can just take the bus. It’s not a big deal.”

The shop comes into sight and Dee’s face breaks into knowing smile. “You only want to be up here to see Pam,” she accuses. The silence over the line is all Dee needs. “I can’t believe you, Samantha Winchester. Using your big sister as an excuse to get in some chick’s pants.”

“Oh please, like you haven’t used me to come down and hit on grad students!” Sam says.

“Mmm dude you remember that guy Victor from last November? Let me tell you, if he’s always that good with his hands, he has a promising future in the medical field.”

“Oh, Dee, gross!” Sam gripes. “I don’t need to know that!”

“So I guess you don’t want to know what me and Brady got up to last time I was there, either?”

“No, Deanna, I don’t want to know what you did with one of my closest friends. Especially Brady. He’s a douchebag.”

“He’s your friend.”

“You fucked him.”

Dee shrugs. “What can I say? I have bad taste,” she says as she reaches for the shop’s door. “Hey, I just reached the shop. Talk about this later?”

“Yeah, all right. I should be reading right now anyway.”

“Aww, I love my little bookworm.”

Sam sighs. “Later, jerk.”

“Bye, bitch.”

Dee ends the call and looks up only to be visually assaulted by a mass of pink and red.

She swats giant paper hearts out of her face as she navigates toward the desk, looking every which way and finding more hearts and little cupids adorning the walls of her shop.

She doesn’t waste a second wondering who was responsible for this. “Charlie!”

The redhead runs from the back not looking the least big guilty or ashamed for her vandalism. “What’s up, boss?”

“Why does it look like an army of cupids attacked my shop?” Dee demands, gesturing to the mess.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Dee! I thought we should decorate a little.”

Dee has to shake her head. “Valentine’s Day?”

Charlie smirks. “Ugh, yeah. You know. That holiday we celebrate every February 14th. Lots of love, lots of chocolate. Both if you’re among the fortunate.”

Dee grimaces and gives the decorations one last disgusted look before heading back to her station. “Fine. But did you have to go so overboard?”

“I can’t help that I’m a walking Pinterest board.” They reach Dee’s station and Charlie falls into her chair as Dee goes to her calendar. “So, what does your day look like?”

“Ugh, dead right now. Benny just called about an hour ago to cancel his appointments for the week. Apparently, Andrea surprised him with a weekend cruise so he’s leaving on Friday and wants to spend today with… Oh, I guess that all makes sense now.”

Charlie snorts. “I was asking about the Valentine plans, dude. Isn’t this like your favorite holiday? What do you call it, ugh, ‘unattached drifter Christmas?’”

Dee spins on her stool, pursing her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel like doing anything.”

Charlie sits up, eyes suddenly serious. “Deanna Winchester, are you in a relationship?”

“What? No!”

“I swear to god, if you found someone and didn’t tell me, I will find your Star Wars fanfiction and share in on Facebook.”

Dee sobers and waves a warning finger. “That’s not even funny. But I’m not in a relationship, Charlie! I’m just tired and I’m working a lot. I don’t have time to hook up with anyone let alone date.”

It takes a moment for Charlie to believe her but she eventually relaxes. “Well, you’re not busy tonight. Wanna come out with me and Dorothy?”

“And be your third wheel? No thanks.”

“We can be your wing women though!”

Dee laughs. “No, Charlie. I’m just gonna go home, talk to Sammy, get some takeout and chill.” She can’t help but wince at the loneliness her words carry and looks off thoughtfully. “Maybe I should get a cat.”

“You need to get some kind of pussy…”

“What?”

“Nothing!” Charlie smiles brightly. “So what about your empty schedule today? You taking walk-ins?”

Dee shrugs. “I guess. Nothing better to do.”

“Or I guess you could call Cas.”

Just the woman’s name manages to brighten Dee’s day. Until she remembers what their last interaction had been like. “Why?”

“Because didn’t she want to start her tattoo sooner? If you have an opening you can call and see if she wants to come in so you don’t waste your whole day.”

The idea of calling fills Dee’s gut with something heavy and cold. She’s spent the last three weeks trying to forget about that awful consultation and the way Cas had snubbed her nose as Dee’s design, talked to her in that distant voice as if she hadn’t spent hours in Dee’s chair over the last month.

Dee wasn’t proud of her own behavior, of course. It was unprofessional and childish. But she was offended and she still was and she didn’t want to call the woman.

“Cas is a business woman,” Dee tries to reason. “There’s no way she has the time in the middle of Tuesday to come in for a tattoo.”

“You don’t know that unless you actually call,” Charlie says blandly and walks away.

Dee frowns after her. “Okay, good talk!”

She turns back to her desk and pouts. “I’m not calling her,” she says aloud. “She can wait just like every other client has to. She’s not special.” An image of Castiel appears in her mind, the one where she was smiling at her Enochian tattoo as if it held the secret to eternal happiness. “She’s just extremely beautiful and hot as hell.”

Dee begins to lower her head when footsteps sound behind her and she perks back up.

“Just one moment, Ms. Novak,” Charlie is saying and then thrusts a phone at Dee.

Dee instinctively jerks away. “What? Charlie, no!” she hisses.

Charlie covers the mouth of the phone. “Talk to her,” she insists and pushes the phone into Dee’s hand.

Dee clutches to Charlie and pushes back. “I don’t want to.”

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“If you don’t you’ll spend the next nine hours tattooing infinity signs on college sweethearts.”

Dee yanks on the phone in a heartbeat and ignores the smug grin on Charlie’s face as the redhead skips out of the room.

She takes a deep breath. You can do this. Just play it cool.

“Hello?”

“Deanna?” Cas’s oddly deep voice vibrates through the phone and straight into Dee’s nervous system.

“Ugh, yeah. Yep, it’s me. Dee. It’s Dee. Um, hey.”

“Hello, Deanna. Miss Bradbury said you were calling about an opening in your schedule today.”

Straight to business. Typical Cas.

“Yeah, I am. My appointment cancelled so I have all day. But, like, I understand if you’re busy or whatever. I’m sure you have a full day-”

“I can come any time after one o’clock,” Cas cuts in. “Would two work for you?”

The suggestion launches Dee to her feet and she starts pacing. “Two? Ugh, yeah, yeah, that works.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

The smile is strained and comes out of nowhere. “Okaaaaay.”

“And Deanna?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Thank you for calling. I appreciate it.”

The shift in tone takes Dee for a spin and she stops moving. “Ugh, yeah. No problem.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

The line goes dead and Dee is left standing there like an idiot until she hears a bright “you’re welcome” from down the hall.

Dee isn’t sure what she’s expecting when Cas enters the shop. Another face-off with the Arctic tundra or maybe full-on fury. Instead the woman looks… anxious. For the first time.

Dee is almost nervous leading Cas back to her station, all the fight suddenly drained from her and heart beating a little too fast. Cas is silent as they walk, barely extending a “hello” once she’d walked through the door and Dee couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Ugh, go ahead and take off your shirt and, ugh, bra,” Dee says over her shoulder as she busies herself at her desk. “Then you can sit in that chair, facing the back.”

She tries not to focus on the rustling of clothing as Cas strips behind her, trying to steel herself for the grueling next few hours.

_Get it together, Winchester,_ she chides. _You’re about to tattoo a woman for five hours. Fucking focus._

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. She grabs the alcohol and cotton pads and turns around.

Castiel’s bare back is exposed to her as the woman leans her front over the back of the chair.

“I’m going to clean off your back now,” Dee says, her voice instinctively going soft and soothing. She wets a pad. “Might be cold.”

Cas’s only reaction is a slight twitch as Dee presses the cotton to her skin and begins preparing it for her machine.

Once her canvas is clear, Dee goes for the transfer paper. She carefully presses it across Cas’s back, letting the ink soak through to imprint her outline.

She takes the paper away, appraising her work in a glance before taking her stool and grabbing her machine.

“Okay, Cas, the plan for today is to finish the outline. Preferably both, but we’re going to start with one and see how you’re doing. If you need to stop at any time just say something.”

Cas doesn’t respond and Dee just nods to herself and gets to work.

Dee isn’t too worried for the first hour. Cas has endured work for that long in much more sensitive areas. Still, she stops to check in and Cas says to keep going.

She checks in again at hour two and, again, Cas mumbles, “Keep going.”

At hour three Dee begins to doubt. Cas isn’t showing a single sign of discomfort, but Dee knows better. She knows that three hours is the cracking point for most customers. It’s when the adrenaline has finally dried up, leaving customers exhausted and irritable and in pain.

“I’ve finished the first wing,” Dee says, flexing her fingers. “We can stop for the day.”

“I’m fine,” Cas says, a hard edge to her voice. “Keep going.”

Dee is dying to argue but doesn’t. She continues to check in as the minutes tick and is always met with a “keep going.”

Until finally, she’s drawing the tip of the last wing. She powers through the last mark and takes her foot off the pedal.  
It’s like the world collapses on her shoulders as she inches away from Cas.

Six hours.

Her fingers are aching and her shoulders are tense. There’s a tremor running through her hands like ghostly vibrations of the machine.  
“Okay,” she breathes out, mostly to herself because, damn, she hates long sessions like this. “Okay. We’re done.”

She expects Cas to sigh or groan or at least adjust her shoulders but the woman doesn’t move.

“Cas?” Dee asks, leaning closer.

When there's still no response Dee frowns and wheels her chair to the side. It won’t be the first time someone has fallen asleep in her chair, but still it’s extremely weird.

“Hey, Cas, are you seriously sle-”

Her question dies on her lips as she sees tears wetting Cas’s red cheeks.

“Oh my god, Cas, are you okay?” Dee wheels closer, trying to meet Cas’s eyes but she looks away. “Cas, I’m so sorry! You should have told me you were in that much pain, I would have stopped, I could have-”

“Stop apologizing,” Cas’s soft voice cuts in. She tips her head to finally look Dee in the eyes and she looks exhausted and totally lost. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“I was very rude to you last time and I’m so sorry f-”

“What?” Dee can hardly believe her ears. “Cas, are you serious? Don’t even think about that right now! Are you okay?”

Cas sniffles as she sucks in a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“Does anything hurt?”

“No-”

“Don’t just say no,” Dee interrupts, ducking until Cas meets her eye again. Her own hands are shaking with a need to touch and heal, to comfort and her heart is racing. “I need to know the truth. Does anything hurt?”

Cas stares ahead at her for several breaths before shaking her head. “No. Nothing hurts.”

Dee doesn’t fully believe her but she gives a nod, mostly to herself, trying to figure out what to do next, how she can possibly make this better. “Okay, look. I’m going to bandage you up. Just sit tight.”

Cas nods and lets her head drop back to the chair. Dee rolls around and gets the wrap she needs to secure the tattoo. It takes a few minutes because of the sheer size of the piece and Cas is a little fidgety throughout the process. Dee works as carefully as she can, hands gentle, reaching out to stroke down Cas’s arms a few times when she moves too much.

“It’s okay,” she promises.

When she finishes she fetches Cas’s shirt, then turns away. “I, ugh, wouldn’t recommend putting your bra back on right now. Don’t want it to rub…”

“Okay.”

She listens as Cas pulls her blouse on, nail-bitingly slow. When it goes quiet, she peeks over her shoulder. Cas is sitting straight up, face still red but eyes more focused.

“Listen, Cas, I-”

“I’m sorry,” Cas interrupts again and Dee frowns.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, I do. Please — just let me-” The dark-haired woman takes a deep breath. “I acted childishly the last time we spoke. I was going through something personal and I took it out on you. I apologize for my horrible behavior.”

Dee fidgets under the sincerity of Cas’s gaze. “It’s really not a big deal, Cas.”

“It has been to me.”

And, god, what is she supposed to say to that? “Look, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gotten as upset as I did. I was being petty and it was unprofessional. So. Sorry.”

The lapse into silence for several long minutes that eat away at them, neither quite sure where to go from here.

Finally, Cas stands and offers a weak smile. “I suppose I should be going. Thank you for calling me today.”

Dee jumps to her feet. “Ugh, yeah, no problem.”

“Sorry for keeping you so late on Valentine’s Day. I’m sure you had plans.”

Dee almost laughs. “Oh, no. Trust me. No.”

Cas’s eyebrows rise as if surprised but quickly go back to neutral. “Well. Have a good night.”

“Yeah. You too, Cas.”

She watches Cas start toward the front of the store and her chest tightens, questions battering against her ribcage and she takes a step after the woman. 

“Hey, wait! Cas!”

She pauses and looks over her shoulder. “Yes?”

Dee gives a small shrug, not quite sure where she’s going with this. “You wanna get something to eat?”


	8. Chapter 8

Cas isn’t expecting the invitation and it stuns her into silence for maybe a little too long because Deanna begins to visibly deflate.

“I would love to.”

It takes a few minutes for Deanna to clean up and close the shop for the night, but Cas waits patiently. Then she follows as Deanna steers them toward a diner she swears has the best food on the west coast.

“You more of a vanilla milkshake kind of girl or chocolate milkshake kind of girl?” Deanna wonders as she browses the menu.

Cas frowns. “Water.”

“Okay, chocolate milkshake it is.” She flags down a waitress then and smiles brightly. “Okay, we’ll have two bacon cheeseburgers, her with fries. Onion rings for me, as you know,” she adds with a wink. “And then two chocolate milkshakes.”

Cas looks at her pointedly and Deanna rolls her eyes. “And some water.”

“That all hon?” the waitress asks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The waitresses wanders off with their order, leaving Deanna and Cas to stare at each other.

“Why did you bring me here?” Cas finally asks.

Deanna looks caught a little off guard by the question. “Because you look like you need some food,” she says with a half-shrug. “And — I don’t know. A friend?”

Cas’s brow furrows. “You want to be my friend?” The words sound absurd coming out of her mouth.

“Why do you sound like you’ve never had one?” When Cas just looks away, Deanna huffs a bitter laugh. “Wow.”

“Forming friendships isn’t exactly a priority in my experience.”

“What about, like, work friends or something?”

“I prefer to keep my work and personal lives separate.”

“Of course you do,” Deanna sighs. “So. I’m your first friend. And first order of business is to…” She trails off as the waitress sets their waters and milkshakes down in front of them. “We are going to chug at least a quarter of these until our heads hurt.”

Cas twists her nose up. “That sounds rather unnecessary-”

Deanna raises a hand. “Hey, who's the friendship expert here?" She points at the shake. "Drink up.”

With just the slightest hesitation, Cas listens and lifts her glass. And it’s delicious for about the first ten seconds or so. Then the cold starts bleeding into her head and she pulls away with a groan. Deanna laughs.

“How does this make us friends?”

Deanna rubs at her head as she snickers. “It doesn’t really. I just wanted you to lose that face.”

 

“What’s wrong with my face?”

“Nothing. You just always have this look like you’re overthinking everything and like you can’t be happy. Don’t you ever loosen up a little?”

Cas tilts her head. “I just let you tattoo me for six hours.”

A little red stains Deanna’s cheeks. “Fair enough.”

Silence falls between them again and Cas lets her eyes wander across the restaurant, taking in the cheap decorations. “This is the first time I’ve been out on Valentine’s Day since college.”

Deanna looks around like she’s just remembered what day it is. “Oh shit. You’re right.” When she looks back at Cas she’s smiling curiously.

“You realize what people will assume about us, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

The response is so quick and easy to roll of the blonde's tongue, Cas is put off for a second. “That doesn’t... bother you?”

“Does it bother you?” Deanna counters, meeting Cas's gaze.

It makes Cas’s chin jerk up and she takes a moment before shaking her head once. “No.”

Deanna’s smile returns full-force. “Good.” She takes another long sip from her shake. “So, Cas. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an intellectual property lawyer.” The answer leaves a bitter taste in Cas’s mouth so she copies Deanna and reaches for her milkshake.

“And how do you like it? Honestly?” Deanna challenges.

Cas swallows slowly. “I don’t.”

“Figured. What did you really want to do?”

“When I was a kid?”

Deanna shakes her head. “No, like, when you got the point where you were seriously thinking about careers. What did you want to do instead of law?”

Cas actually has to think about it, digging back into the files of her childhood and teenage years to air out the dreams she’d had to stash away for safe keeping. She’d had so many idea as a child. Zookeeper. Teacher. Veterinarian. Fireman...

She smiles as the last one settles in her mind. “A librarian.”

“Really?”

“Or a bookstore owner. But yes. I wanted to be a librarian.”

Deanna seems to study her for a moment before smiling like it all makes sense. “Honestly, I can see that. Get you some glasses and a few cardigans.” There’s a light in Deanna’s eyes as she speaks and it makes Cas smile in return. Because that’s exactly what she’d pictured for herself.

“So what happened?” Deanna presses on. “Not fancy or high maintenance enough so your parents wouldn’t you do it?”

“That’s basically what happened.”

The waitress returns with their food then and Cas’s stomach immediately rumbles as the smell of the burger reaches her nose.

“Oh, yes,” Deanna moans, immediately taking her burger in hand. “Cas, get ready to have your world rocked.”

Cas takes a tentative first bite but the next few are not as careful because Deanna was absolutely right. It’s the most delicious thing she’s ever eaten. She can’t even think of the last time she had something this good.

“Milkshake,” Deanna reminds her and Cas takes another sip and the flavors are so ridiculous together she laughs.

Deanna is watching her as she goes back and forth with a lazy smile and Cas pauses. “What?”

“Nothing,” Deanna assures her. “You just look… normal? No offense!”

Cas puts the burger down and wipes her face off. “No offense taken. I haven’t eaten like this since I was a child.”

“Are you telling me intellectual property lawyers don’t eat bacon cheeseburgers?”

“None that I’ve met.”

Deanna shakes her head sadly. “You need to get a new career, Cas. We’ll see if any of the local libraries are hiring tomorrow.”

Cas laughs again and leans back into the booth. “How did you know you wanted to be a tattoo artist?”

Deanna takes a moment to swallow and wipe her face. “My dad got a ton of tattoos while he was in the marines so I was just so used to seeing them from the time I was a toddler. When he would nap I used to trace them or draw over them ‘cause I just thought they were the coolest shit in the world. Then I started drawing on myself or my little sister — our mother was not happy about that. Got to high school and a friend knew this girl who worked at a shop downtown so we went after school one day and I got to watch her work and… that’s it really. I knew that’s what I wanted.”

“Were your parents supportive?” Cas asks.

Deanna purses her lips. “Not at first. Mom had the same idea of tattoo shops as everyone and she didn’t think I’d be safe. Dad didn’t mind as much but he always wanted me to go to school for engineering so he was a little disappointed. But they’re both totally on board now.”

“As they should. One of the top tattoo artists in the country and not even thirty years old,” Cas recites.

Deanna laughs. “Dude, did you Google me?”

“You really think I’d walk into a random shop and let a stranger tattoo me without doing thorough research?” Cas retorts.

“Touché.”

“You have quite the reputation.”

Deanna’s shrug is modest and Cas marvels at it. Such a confident woman but praise makes her uncomfortable. “Well, ya know, hard work and all that.”

“Of course,” Cas says with a hum.

They finish the rest of their food and laze about for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being full and… happy.

When the check comes Deanna is quick to snatch it up, ignoring Cas’s frown. “I got it, Cas,” she says as she forks over the cash. “Wouldn’t be a date if I let you pay, right?” She winks.

Cas sips at her water, hoping the warmth she’s feeling doesn’t show in her face. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she says when they start to stand.

“It was my pleasure.”

They walk outside and pause in front of the diner, taking another moment just to stare at one another.

“Will I not see you again until April 14th?” Cas asks.

Deanna looks confused at first before understanding dawns. “Man you are in a real hurry to get this tattoo done.”

Cas doesn’t deny it.

“Okay, look, when do you want it finished by?”

“Preferably my sister’s wedding. March 31st.”

Deanna nods. “Okay. I’m sure we can work something out. I have to check my calendar first, but if push comes to shove, I have a set-up at home. We’ll get this done before the wedding.”

Cas is nearly overwhelmed with an instinct to hug the woman in front of her just then but she restrains herself and smiles instead. “Thank you, Deanna.”

“Keep telling you to call me Dee.” She bites her lips and Cas fears she focuses on it a little too much, almost missing when Deanna speaks again.

“What?”

“I said give me your phone.” She holds he hand out.

Cas frowns but digs out her phone, unlocking it, and handing it over. Deanna hits a few buttons, frowning down at the screen. “Just so you know this is the lamest way that I have ever given my number to a cute girl, but look…” She finishes typing and hands the phone back to Cas. “If you ever need anything, even if it’s just to talk, call me. Okay?”

Cas is too stunned to respond, the word “cute” resounding in her head, but she manages to nod.

Deanna smiles again, small and sweet. “Cool. I’ll call you as soon as I figure out my schedule.”

Cas nods again and watches as Deanna takes a few steps back. “Oh, and happy Valentine’s Day,” she calls before she turns and wanders down the street.


	9. Chapter 9

The sun feels entirely too bright as Dee drives to work. She’s still yawning as she weaves through traffic and mumbling half-coherent curses under her breath. They’re mostly aimed at herself for being stupid enough to book such an early appointment.

Opening the shop is a quick process. Just turning on the lights, opening the register, flipping the sign.

Jo shows up right on time and Dee is quick to get the paperwork out of the way and usher the blonde woman back to her chair.

“Whoa. Did you draw those?” Jo asks as she kicks her shoes off. 

Dee turns and finds Jo staring at the large sketch she’d pinned to the wall. It was the copy of Cas’s wings. When she’d first unrolled them she could barely stand to look at them but after putting some of it on Cas… it’s more bittersweet. Because she’s starting to understand.

“It’s a new commission,” she finally answers.

“They’re beautiful,” Jo breathes, leaning toward them. “Kinda… sad though. Looks like they’ve been through hell and back.”

Dee almost winces at the word because, damn, what she wouldn’t give to know what kind of hell. But she’ll get there. One day. She hopes. “You got the reference?”

Jo nods and turns from the sketch to reach into her purse, pulling out an old polaroid. Dee takes the photo and smiles when she recognizes a familiar face. “Wow, Ellen hasn’t aged a day.”

“I know! And she promises she didn’t sell her soul.”

“Liar,” Dee laughs. “This is your father?”

Jo’s smile is soft. “Yeah. Just a year after they got married. And that’s his car.”

Dee releases a low whistle at the beautiful black Mustang Jo’s parents are leaning against. “Damn.”

“Almost as pretty as your baby, huh?”

Dee musters up one of Sam’s bitch faces. “No Mustang can hold a candle to my Impala.”

Jo snorts and settles into the chair. “Whatever you say, Winchester.”

Jo is a talker when she’s being worked on and usually it takes a toll on Dee, especially this early in the day. But today, she welcomes the conversation and the distraction. 

“I hear you got a bit of a crush on a client,” Jo teases.

“And who did you hear that from?” Dee asks without really needing to.

“Charlie,” Jo confirms for her. “Says she’s quite the beauty too.”

“I’m not talking about this, Jo.”

“Oh, come on, Dee. When’s the last time you dated someone or, hell, even just hooked up.”

“Jo,” Dee tries to warn.

“I’m just trying to help you. You need to get back out there. Have you tried Tinder?”

Dee snorts as she begins one of the tires. “I’m twenty-eight years old, Jo. I don’t do Tinder.”

“EHarmony?”

“You know, you really shouldn’t irritate the person holding a machine pushing five needles into your skin.”

“Shutting up now.”

They continue in silence. At some point Dee distantly registers the sounds of Pam and Charlie coming in, hears their hushed voices and quick steps.

A half hour later, she’s rolling away and Jo is holding her leg up to smile at the sharp Mustang running along her right foot. “It’s beautiful.”

Dee hates the heat she feels in her cheeks, the burn of pride in her chest, and shrugs the praise away. “I do what I can.”

Pam and Charlie peek in then and Dee has no doubt they’ve been hovering for a while. “All done?” Charlie asks.

Jo holds her leg up so they can see her new piece. “It’s beautiful,” Pam says. “I bet it would mean so much to you dad.”

Jo’s smile holds the barest hint of remorse as it always does when talking about her late father. “Yeah. He’d love it. Mom’s gonna shit herself though.”

“It still amazes me that your mother runs a roadhouse in the middle of Kansas, but she’s still squeamish about tattoos,” Dee says as she rolls back around with a bandage. “She’s surrounded by giant men covered in tatts all day.”

“It doesn’t make sense to any of us,” Jo assures her.

“Hey who are these for?”

They all turn to Pam and once again attention is diverted to the wings adorning Dee’s wall.

“They’re Cas’s.”

Charlie spins around. “Cas?” she echoes in disbelief. “Wait, these are the wings Cas commissioned?”

“Isn’t that the hot girl?” Jo asks.

“The one and only,” Pam confirms.

“Why would a woman like that want something as depressing as these?” Charlie breathes.

“She must being going through something tough right now.”

“With something that size, I’d guess it’s been going on for a while.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“Should we-”

“Guys,” Dee barks. “Can we please not talk about this?”

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Pam huffs.

Dee rolls the design back up. “Nothing. I just- Cas is coming in later and you’re making me nervous.”

Charlie narrows her eyes. “Sure you’re not just worried?”

“I’m not worried!” Dee runs a hand through her hair, losing her patience with her closest friends. “Look, Cas and I talked and I don’t know the details of everything, but I know this is something she needs. So I am going to do my job and give them to her.”

Dee is met with three bitch faces that border on pity.

“Oh honey,” Pam says with the shake of her head. “You’ve got it bad.”

Dee seethes. “Don’t you guys have work to do?”

They held their hands up in mock surrender, slowly backing away until it was just Jo and Dee.

They walk up front and Jo pays and doesn’t say anything more but Dee can tell she wants to.

“I’ll see you around,” Dee says once the payment is finished.

“Yeah, see you later,” Jo says, taking a step toward the door. “Hey, Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“I really hope things work out with this Cas person.”

Dee breathes out of her nose harshly.

She hasn’t seen Cas since Valentine’s Day, but had found a way to squeeze her in for a short appointment today. It was nearing the end of February and Dee knew she wasn’t working with a lot of time if she wanted to finish this behemoth before March 31st.

_My sister’s wedding._

Dee has spent a lot of time wondering about the importance of this date, why Cas acts as though she needs this tattoo in order to survive the wedding. She supposes it’s a comfort thing. Dee has a few pieces for just that purpose, like the quote on her left arm.

 _Angels are watching over you._ She brushes her fingers across the quote and it’s like she can hear her mother whispering them. Definitely a comfort thing.

But she can’t imagine a full back piece allowing much comfort at a wedding when it will be so fresh and tender. Maybe she should point that out to Cas, try to talk her into waiting a few weeks after the wedding to finish up.

Cas shows up about an hour later and Dee knows upon seeing her that waiting isn’t an option.

She looks okay today. Better. Still stiff in the shoulders but her smile is genuine and seems to curve easy as she greets Dee and follows her back to the chair.

“Good day so far?” Dee asks.

“Only because I’m here.”

Not for the first time, Dee wonders if Cas is trying to kill her because her heart instantly surges and she’s a blushing, bumbling mess as she waits for Cas to remove her clothes.

She tries to shake herself in the right headspace by pulling on fresh gloves and getting her tools ready.

“Okay, so today I’m going to focus on the arches and try to get all the shading on your shoulders done so it will heal sooner.”

Cas is pressed safely against the chair when Dee turns around. “Why?”

“Well, you said it was your sister’s wedding, right?” Cas nods. “I assumed there was a good chance you would be in the wedding.”

“I’m the maid of honor.”

“Right and most bridesmaid dresses are strapless and show a lot of shoulder. Figured you’d want this area healed so you can apply concealer if you need to.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Dee purses her lips as she starts cleaning Cas’s back. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Cas breathes.

Cas handles the shading well, or at least refuses to let on if she’s uncomfortable. It takes Dee four hours to get the area looking the way she wants and Cas is quiet the entire time.

“Do you want to look at it before I cover it?” Dee asks but Cas just shakes her head.

It’s odd to Dee that Cas has refused to look at the tattoo, whereas with all the others she was eager to study them with her own eyes. But she doesn’t push. Everyone is different.

She puts on the bandaging and turns away so Cas can dress.

“It can’t be comfortable having to wear that under your suits all day,” Dee comments.

Cas smiles wryly. “It isn’t.”

They take care of the payment up front and Dee watches carefully as Cas shrugs into her jacket and hefts her bag onto her shoulder, flinching slightly. “This is going to be troublesome,” Cas says.

Dee offers an empathetic smile. “I know. But it will get better.”

Cas just nods. “You will call me the next time you have an opening?”

“Of course.”

“Great. And thank you, again, for contacting me. And for all your hard work.”

The blush returns and Dee rubs at the back of her neck because, damn, is it getting hot in here? “Y-yeah, no problem, Cas. You have a good one.”

Cas steps toward the door. “You as well, Deanna.”

“Call me Dee!” she shouts but Cas is already gone.

She sinks back into the chair and sighs. Nothing to do but wait for her next appointment.


	10. Chapter 10

Cas meets Anna at the boutique for the final dress fitting.

“Why do you look so tired?” Cas asks as they walk into the store, noting the sunken look to her sister’s eyes.

“Stupid liquid diet,” Anna growls. “Trying to make sure I didn’t gain anything since the first fitting.”

Cas pauses by the front desk. “By… starving yourself.”

The receptionist’s smile falters as she catches a thread of their conversation.

“I have an appointment for Anna Novak,” Anna tells her then swings on Cas. “Tamp down the judgment, Cassie. I’m exhausted and starving and I will smother you with a prom dress.”

Cas holds up a hand in surrender and follows when the receptionist gestures them toward the back where the seamstress is waiting. Anna vanishes into a small fitting room with the older woman and Cas takes a seat outside. She has to lean back carefully, making sure no part of the chair comes in contact with her shoulders.

They were still sensitive after the last session, not necessarily hurting but there was definitely some discomfort when she leaned against anything. And sleeping on her back had been out for weeks now.

She’s still waiting on a call from Deanna. They had checked with each other a few times in the last few days, trying to find time, but either Deanna was booked or Cas couldn’t leave work.

It’s taking it’s toll on Cas, making her skin itch or her chest ache like there’s something she’s missing. But she’s hard pressed to tell if it’s the tattooing or the artist making her shiver.

The curtain rustles and Anna steps out, beaming. “What do you think?”

She gives a twirl, the wispy fabric of the skirt swishing magically around her feet. The bodice is layered with lace that dances up to kiss Anna’s collarbones and round over her shoulders into delicate sleeves.

The dress is the one thing Anna had truly fought for in her wedding, the one thing she had refused to compromise on even in the face of a dozen hurricanes to have for just a few hours. Cas hadn’t understood it at first, why her sister would take Naomi’s nagging and cruel criticism about this one thing while everything else met a lifeless smile.

But now she does.

“You look beautiful, Anna.”

Anna’s smile just seems to get bigger and she actually squeals as she moves in front of the mirrors to look at herself. “It’s perfect.”

The seamstress strolls after her to take a few measurements and Anna pouts when she says Anna can change.

She emerges from the fitting room a second time, much less excited and Cas stands with a sympathetic smile. “Just a few weeks to go,” Cas reminds her.

“Yeah, I know,” Anna sighs. “I swear I’m going to sleep in that thing for a solid month after the wedding.”

Cas chuckles and shrugs into her coat. “So are you allowed to eat now?”

“Hell yes!”

Anna decides on pizza because “you don’t realize how much you love bread until you can’t eat it for four months.” And it’s her last cheat day before the wedding, she reasons. She deserves it.

“So,” Anna says as they wait for their food, “I heard you officially turned down Bartholomew.”

“I officially turned him down fifteen years ago,” Cas says and sips her water. “But if you’re specifically referring to him as my date to your wedding, then that is also correct.”

“Bold move, Cassie. Mother is not happy.”

Cas bites into a breadstick. “I really don’t care.”

Anna takes one for herself. “Who are you going to bring then?”

“To what?”

A piece of bread comes flying across the table to hit Cas in the chest. “The wedding, you ass. You still get a plus one.”

“I don’t see why I have to bring anyone,” Cas says, trying to sound and look dignified as she picks up the bread and pops it into her mouth. “I’m the maid of honor. I’m going to be busy making sure you don’t have a meltdown or the bridesmaids are too hungover to walk.”

“I highly doubt either of those things will happen.”

“I’m sorry, did you forget who our mother is?”

Anna grimaces. “Fair enough. Still, I think you should bring someone. Someone… of your choosing.”

Cas squints at her sister. “Was that your way of saying I can bring a woman?”

“Yes it was.”

She can’t help the laugh that rises and doesn’t quite understand it’s presence. If it’s because of how awkward Anna looks mentioning Cas’s sexuality or the fact that after fifteen years Anna _still_ looks awkward mentioning Cas’s sexuality.

“Anna, please. You don’t want that.”

“Of course I do!” Anna insists. “If Lucifer gets to bring that demon, you should get to bring someone you like.”

“Lilith is his wife.”

Anna’s lips purse, not the least bit apologetic. “Still a demon.”

“What about Mother?” Cas counters. “You’re going to be putting up with her unreasonable expectations and perpetual disappointment all day. The last thing you need is either of us causing a scene because of me and hedonistic life style."

To that, Anna just shrugs. “I’ll deal with it. But I don’t want you to be alone the entire night. You deserve to have someone to lean on and dance with you and ask if you want a drink so you can escape awkward conversations.”

The waiter returns with their pizza then and they take a moment to load their plates, Cas peeling a pepperoni from her slice.

She sighs. “I appreciate it, Anna, but it doesn’t matter. There isn’t anyone in my life like that right now.”

Anna doesn’t look convinced as she chews. “Oh, come on, Cas. There has to be someone you’re a little interested in.”

Cas immediately goes to deny it but the words freeze on her tongue as green eyes come into focus.  
Green eyes and a speckling of golden freckles. Soft blonde hair that smells like tropical fruit and a smile that’s always a little crooked. A woman with flowers on her hand.

“Oh, so there is,” Anna croons.

Cas looks up and it slowly dawns on her that she’s smiling. She fights it, looking back at her plate, but it’s too late.

“Cas, don’t you dare hide this from me!” Anna says and swats at Cas’s shoulder. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“It’s no one,” Cas says.

“No one my ass. Spill.”

Cas glances up again and sighs because Anna has the smug grin of someone who’s already accepted victory. “Her name is Deanna.”

Anna actually claps when Cas starts talking, drawing a few eyes and Cas blushes bright red. “Okay where did you meet?”

A thousand lies rise to move her lips but Cas bites them down, takes a deep breath. “She’s my… she’s my tattoo artist.”

Anna’s gasp attracts more sideways glances and Cas glares at her but Anna just waves them away. “You’re dating your tattoo artist?” Anna squeals.

“What? No! I’m no-” Cas glances at the nearest table, smiling apologetically before leaning toward her sister. “We are not dating,” she whispers.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not lying.”

“Then why do I feel like you’re lying-?”

“I’m not-”

“I can always tell when you’re lying, Cassie, don’t-”

“Oh my god, Anna!” Cas hisses, losing her patience. “We’re not dating! We just — we got dinner. One time. It wasn’t a big deal,” she hurries to emphasize. “It was after a long session and we were both down because it was Valentine’s Day and-”

“You went out on Valentine’s Day?” Anna releases a heart melting sigh. “Oh, Cas, I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s not like that, Anna,” Cas insists. “She was worried about me and just being a good person. I’m just a customer to her.”

Anna snorts. “Oh, please, Cas, you can show concern for someone without taking them to dinner on Valentine’s Day. But never mind, tell me what she’s like!”

Cas’s sigh is resigned and she tries to think of the safest description. “She’s… kind. Friendly. A good listener.”

An amused frown creases Anna’s face. “You just described a dog.”

Cas blows air up through her bangs. “I don’t know what to say, Anna. She’s amazing. She’s the chattiest person I’ve ever met but always seems to know when I just need it to be quiet. She never judges me or gives me funny looks for the things I want. She shows more genuine concern for my well-being than most of our relatives and she just…” Cas laughs once, shaking her head at the absurdity of her own words. “When I’m with her I feel like I can breathe.”

She’s expecting a smug grin or a look of disapproval when she looks up at her sister but all she finds is a soft smile and sincere eyes. “That’s how I felt when I met Inias.”

More heat pools into Cas’s cheeks and she tries to hide it in her food.

“Cas, you need to talk to this woman.”

“Anna…”

“No, Cas, seriously. If you feel this strongly about her, you can’t just let it go. Invite her to the wedding. Or anywhere,” Anna says when she catches Cas’s nervous look. “Just do something.”

Cas relents with a nod. “Okay,” she promises. “I’ll try.”


	11. Chapter 11

Dee is more than excited to burst through her front door, shuffling with Sammy’s bags to throw them on the couch.

Sam walks in after her, closing the door and arching a brow at her older sister. “You act like this is the first time we’ve seen each other in thirty years.”

Dee shrugs and wanders toward the kitchen. “Thirty years, three months. Basically the same thing.”

“They definitely aren’t.”

“Want something to drink? I’ve got wine, beer, whiskey, beer, more beer.”

Sam frowns but comes to lean against the kitchen island. “It’s four o’clock, Dee.”

“It’s never too early to start sisterly bonding.” Dee pulls two bottles out and passes one to Sam.

Dee grimaces as she watches Sam take the bottle in hand and pop the cap, hesitating before taking a sip. She’s still the enormous little sister Dee grew up with but there are little things that have changed in the short time they hadn’t seen each other. Her hair is a little shorter, Dee notes and squints.

Sam catches her look and frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You look taller,” Dee says.

Sam snorts. “I haven’t grown since ninth grade.”

“Eh, I don’t believe you. What are you, six-foot-one now?”

“I’m five-ten, Dee. Have been for ten years.”

That absurd number always makes Dee wrinkle her nose. “You’re the worst.”

“What happened to sisterly bonding? Why are you observing me? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Dee promises and tries to shake herself out of it. “I’m just hyped that you’re here, dude.”

Sam finally smiles then, looking at ease for the first time since getting in the car. “I am too.”

“Okay, so update me on school. I can’t believe you graduate in three months. I feel fucking ancient!”

They move to the couch with their beers where Sam divulges all the need-to-know information about school and graduation. She already has a job lined up after graduation, something a mentor at one of her past internships hooked up.

She smiles the entire time, dreaming of her future, taking it step by step like she has the next twenty years of her life planned.  
That’s Sam for you. Always thinking ahead. Always doing things the right way. She makes Dee proud.

“Hey, so how’s the shop?” Sam asks when she finishes. “How are Charlie and Pam?”

Dee smiles. “Oh right, I forgot the real reason that you came up here.”

Sam glares at her from across the couch. “I didn’t come for Pam!” she insists. “She’s just… an added bonus.”

“Yeah whatever. She’s good though. So is Charlie. Business remains impossibly busy.”

“I’ve been telling you for years that you need to get a bigger space and hire more artists.”

Dee waves her sister’s words away and takes another pull from her bottle. “Big was never the goal, Sammy. I mean, I’m happy with where I am. I love that I’ve been successful at something I actually want to do. But I don’t want this to become… everything.”

“You want to keep it manageable,” Sam says knowingly.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Sam takes a drink. “But manage it with what? No offense, Dee but you don’t really do anything else.”

“Hey, offense taken!” Dee cries. “I do shit.”

“Like what?”

“I-I, well, ya know, Netflix- catching up with Netflix is basically a full time job all of it’s own.”

Sam laughs loudly and throws herself back into the couch cushions. “Netflix and chilling by yourself doesn’t count, Dee.”

“Well, it should,” Dee grumbles.

“Come on, aren’t you, like, seeing anyone?” Sam asks, throwing out an arm.

“Nah. Not right now.”

“I feel like this is the longest you’ve ever been single,” Sam muses. “What’s it been? A year since you last dated?”

Dee considers the question. “Yeah. Maybe a little longer actually.”

“What happened?”

She shrugs this time, eyes focusing on the painting on the wall. “I don’t know. I think I just started putting more thought into what I really wanted. Like long-term. And I needed to slow down.”

“Long-term,” Sam echoes. “Like marriage?”

“Maybe.” Dee shrugs again. “Something steady at least.”

“Have you met anyone?”

“Ehhhhhh,” Dee drawls. “Kinda.”

Sam perks up at that, scooting closer. “Kinda? Really? Who are they?”

Dee leans back, away from her sister’s nosing. “Dude, it’s nothing. Like it would never work. She’s a client and kind of a friend. I think?”

“You think?”

“It’s complicated,” Dee explains. “She’s super socially awkward. I think she has some crazy relatives or something. And a job that she hates. She’s just not happy.”

“And you care because…”

Dee shoots her sister a dirty look. “Because I’m a decent fucking human being, Sammy.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Right. And it has nothing to do with you maybe just wanting to get in her pants?”

“No! What? No!” Dee argues immediately. “It’s not like that at all. I mean, she’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like… I don’t know, Sam, I worry about her all the time. She just came into the shop randomly one day asking for this crazy tattoo and then she kept coming back again and again and she always looks so lifeless when she comes in, ya know? But then she’ll look at her tattoo when we’re done and she has this smile that just… she looks like a completely different person. And I want her to look that way all the time.”

Sam almost looks impressed when Dee glances her way. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.”

Dee huffs and finishes her beer. “It’s stupid,” she says. “What she needs right now is a friend. And she’s way out of my league any way.”

Hell, Cas is out of her atmosphere. They aren’t even in the same galaxy. Cas is like a supernova, glowing blue and hot, and Dee is just a meteor, burning as she passes by. She’ll be nothing but dust by the time Cas is gone.

“Dee, don’t be like that,” Sam says. “You’re an amazing person and a great partner to people. She’d be lucky to have you.”

Dee grimaces and gets to her feet, picking up their empty bottles. “Thanks, Sammy. But I don’t think a charming personality is going to quite cut it with this one.”

She hobbles over to the kitchen and tosses the bottles in the recycling. “Hey what do you want for dinner?”

“Thai!” Sam calls.

“Thai it is.” Dee shuffles through her collection of takeout menus and returns to the couch with it and two more beers.

She calls to place their order once Sam has picked out what she wants and the two lounge back against the couch. Dee pulls something up on Netflix to disturb the quiet while they wait.

“Hey,” Sam says suddenly. “What’s this magical woman’s name?”

“Hmm?” Dee grunts. “Who?”

“This woman you’re obviously in love with but think you’re not good enough for.”

Dee passes her sister a dirty look at that less-than-necessary elaboration. “Cas. Castielle Novak.”

Sam is up in a second with a sharp yelp. “Castielle Novak?” she almost screams, turning frantic eyes on Dee.

“Ugh, yeah… You know her?”

Sam looks offended and righteously disappointed at the same time. “Dude, she’s one of the top intellectual property lawyers in the state. I went to her seminar last year. She’s brilliant, Dee. Like scarily so.”

Something in Dee wants to be surprised but she just can’t find it in her. Cas just gives off that vibe of someone who would be extremely impressive and intimidating if you actually knew anything about them. 

Sam gasps, drawing Dee’s attention again. “Wait. Does this mean Castielle Novak has tattoos?” Sam sounds almost scandalized.

“Yes,” Dee answers slowly. “Quite a few of them.”

“Oh my god,” Sam sighs, sinking back into the couch. “I feel like my entire world view just shifted.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. I just… Castielle Novak. My sister is in love with Castielle Novak.”

“Okay, let’s not call it-”

“And she has tattoos,” Sam continues. “My sister has tattooed Castielle Novak and she is in love with her.”

Dee purses her lips impatiently. “Are you done yet?”

Sam nods but doesn’t seem to actually mean it. “Yeah. Yep. Done.”

Dee squints. “Listen, obviously you and I have very different perceptions of Cas. But-”

“You call her Cas?” Sam pipes in.

“Yes? Dude, listen! Cas is a normal person. Stop awing about her like she’s a Greek goddess or something.”

Even though Dee had practically done the same thing the first time she’d seen the woman, but Sammy didn’t need to know that.  
“Oh, right, sorry,” Sam says. “I’m cool. It’s just kind of crazy. I can’t believe you know her.”

Dee grins, nudging at Sam with her elbow. “Well, your big sis is kind of cool.”

“Not when she does that.”

Dee stills. “Fair enough. But look, no more Cas talk, okay? I want to spend time with my little sister getting drunk and eating too much pad thai. Deal?”

Sam rolls her eyes but extends her hand to shake. “All right. Deal.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for homophobia, mentions of past child abuse and conversion therapy.

There’s a food truck not far from the office that Cas allows herself to stop by every few weeks. It’s just greasy Mediterranean food, nothing particularly special about it, but sometimes you just need a gyro covered in tzatziki sauce on your way home and this truck fits Cas’s bill perfectly.

The woman who owns it greets Cas warmly and begins scribbling her order before Cas even opens her mouth.

A soft buzzing sounds from Cas’s purse and she finishes paying before pulling it out. “Castielle Novak.”

“Castielle, how’s it going, kiddo?”

Dick Roman’s voice booms in her ear and Cas pulls the phone away a few inches. “I’m doing well, Mr. Roman. Yourself?”

“Good, very good. I was calling to get an update on that Colfax painting. Got the family breathing down my neck.”

Cas grimaces. “I have a meeting with them next Thursday. I’m certain we can have the case taken to appeals by August.”

“August? Isn’t that moving a little fast? Doesn’t it usually take six months?”

“Yes, sir. I’m already prepping the briefs.”

Silence falls between them and then Roman chuckles. “Atta girl, Castielle. I knew I could count on you!”

Cas’s order is called and she steps forward to grab her bag. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir.”

“You know, kid, at this rate you’ll be making partner in no time. Keep up the good work, all right? I’ll see you Monday.”

The line goes dead before Cas can say another word and she sighs.

 _Partner…_ The word settles heavy in her gut, makes her chest feel cold.

Going into law had never been Cas's goal and working for a money hungry monster like Dick Roman had certainly never passed through her mind. But there was a family connection and once Cas finished school she’d had no reason to refuse; couldn’t refuse with Naomi leering down her nose at her.

But working for the man and working _with_ him are wildly different. Cas can’t even see herself in that role, doesn’t want to picture it. But she can’t imagine saying no either. It would be silly, wouldn’t it? To refuse such an honor? To not move forward with the career she’s dedicated her entire adult life to?

_Partner…_

Her phone buzzes again and she frowns, looking down at the screen. This time it’s not a phone call. It’s a text. From Deanna.

They’ve shared a few in the last few weeks. It began as just trying to find time to continue the tattoo that worked for both of them. Then Deanna began sending random messages like “Hope you have a good day!” or “’Night, Cas!”

It had been a complete shock to Cas’s system the first time those had arrived and she had dropped her phone in the middle of a meeting as if it had electrocuted her.

She responds as best she can, but her messages sound overly formal and tense even to her. If Deanna notices, she never says anything, just sends back a smiley face or Cas has noticed she’s particularly fond of the one with sunglasses.

She opens the current message and finds a link that takes her to a video of… a baby goat? She watches it as she walks back to her car, a smile forming despite herself. She just can’t figure out why she’s watching it all.

 **Cas:** It’s a goat.

 **Deanna:** not just any goat, Cas!

 **Deanna:** it’s Benji the pygmy goat!!

 **Cas:** Is he important?

 **Deanna:** no he’s just super cute and I thought it would make you smile

Cas stumbles, breath hitching, and barely manages to catch herself before falling. A few passerby’s eyes her carefully but she just brushes herself off and keeps walking.

 **Deanna:** did it work?

It’s like Cas can see Deanna’s smile through the words. It’s the crooked one, teasing but harmless and a little too proud. It makes Cas’s chest ache.

 **Cas:** Yes.

 **Deanna:** mission accomplished

This message is accompanied by little black boxes with “x”s through them.

 **Cas:** Why did you send black boxes?

 **Deanna:** what?

 **Deanna:** it’s the cowboy emoji

 **Deanna:** DUDE HAVE YOU STILL NOT UPDATED YOUR PHONE

Cas is grinning ear to ear as her car comes into view and she fishes her keys out of her purse to unlock it.

 **Cas:** I will do it tonight.

 **Deanna:** thank god

 **Deanna:** then I can send you the clown emoji

 **Deanna:** it scares the shit out of Sam

Cas smiles at the laughing faces that accompany Deanna’s messages and then sets her phone aside to start the car.

She plays music on the drive home. She had found a classic rock station a few weeks ago, like the one Deanna plays all day at her shop. Sometimes she’ll hear a song she knows she’s heard before while Deanna was painting her skin, and she can hear the artist’s voice, always soft and off key.

It’s the kind of singing you want to hear coming from your shower early in the morning. The kind of singing that makes you want to take someone’s hand and dance them around the kitchen while breakfast burns in the background. The kind of singing you want soothing you to sleep each night while gentle hands rub your back, play with your hair.

Cas bites her lip. This isn’t a good train of thought to jump on.

Fluffy gray clouds roll overhead as Cas races the rain home. It’s a good night for rain. There are no files to be read or reviewed. She can just change into pajamas, settle into the couch with her favorite food. There’s a bottle of wine on top of the fridge just waiting to be uncorked and a Netflix queue dying to get some action.

Cas pulls into the garage and kills the engine.

There’s a message waiting for her as she gathers her things and heads toward the elevator.

 **Deanna:** how do you feel about pugs?

It’s so out-no-where but Cas smiles brightly.

 **Cas:** About their overall physical appearance or do you want my opinion of humanity’s involvement in their genetic evolution?

 **Deanna:** ….

 **Deanna:** the first one??

 **Deanna:** but we can definitely come back to the second point later. i have another video to send you.

Cas chuckles as she reaches her apartment and shoulders through the door. She throws her keys in the bows and kicks off her heels, immediately sighing with relief. Her phone buzzes with Deanna’s video and she’s hurrying toward the kitchen with her food when a curt voice breaks in.

“Castielle.”

She freezes, chest tightening even as the familiarity of the voice starts to sink in. She takes a few steps around the corner and finds her mother and a strange man sitting on her couch.

Naomi watches her with cold eyes as she approaches, somehow making Cas feel like she’s intruding in her own home.

“Mother,” she greets with caution. “What are you doing here?”

Naomi arches a brow. “Can’t a mother check in on her youngest child?”

“Not if it involves breaking and entering.”

The laugh that follows is condescending at best. “There was no breaking and entering, dear. Your doorman knows me quite well.”

And somehow that doesn’t make Cas feel any better. “What are you doing here?” she asks again, eyes sliding toward the man next to her. “And who is our guest?”

“Now, Castielle,” she starts, raising a hand, “before you get upset, hear me out. I was very disturbed by our conversation at the boutique. I understand that I put you through a great ordeal as a child.”

Cas frowns as she listens to Naomi, knowing there’s no way this conversation is going in the direction she wishes it would.

“You were hurt, instead of helped,” Naomi continues and gets to her feet. “And I’m so sorry for doing that to you, darling.” She walks closer and closer and Cas feels a chill coming with her. “But this man,” she says, gesturing behind her. “He can truly help you.”

All of the air in the room vanishes at once, leaving Cas breathless and dizzy. The bags in her hands fall to the floor. “No. No.” It’s the only word she can make out, eyes shifting between the man and her mother. “No.”

“Dr. Emerson is an expert and has been updating his practice the last few years,” Naomi says. “There’s no aversion therapy in his method. It’s all behavioral and re-education. Totally harmless.” She reaches out a hand to touch Cas and she tears her arm away.

“Harmless,” Cas echoes, voice shaking. “You think this is harmless?”

“I can promise you that you will experience no pain, Castielle,” Dr. Emerson says from the couch. “I simply focus on learning your perception of events, people, and life, and then we attempt to change them by re-educating you so you go on to live a natural, healthy life.”  
Cas is speechless for a moment before turning to her mother who is smiling encouragingly. “Are you serious?”  
If Naomi can hear her daughter’s heart breaking, she doesn’t react. Just blinks. “I just want what’s best for you, darling.”

“And this is your answer?” Cas cries. “Therapy? Again?”

“We have to try to make you better-”

“I’m not sick!” Cas screams and turns toward the doctor. “Homosexuality is not an illness! There’s nothing wrong with me the way I am.” She looks at her mother again, all her energy and frustration slipping away and leaving her hopeless. “Why can’t you accept that?”

Naomi huffs an irritated breath. “Because it’s not natural.”

“But torturing you child is?”

“It’s not torture,” Dr. Emerson chimes in. “It’s cognitive behave-”

“Get out,” Cas snaps at the man. “Both of you get out, now.”

“Castielle, please, let us help you-”

“OUT!” Cas roars. “Get the fuck out or I’ll call the police.”

Dr. Emerson moves toward the door first and Cas goes to grab her mother’s bag, slamming it into the woman’s chest, pushing her toward the door. For the first time in her life, Cas sees disbelief in her mother’s eyes, genuine shock as she stumbles after the doctor.  
“Casti-”

“Don’t say my name,” Cas hisses, fighting with all the strength she has to keep her tears at bay. “Don’t talk to me, don’t even _think_ of me. The next and last time I will see you will be at Anna’s wedding. I never want you near me after that, do you understand me?"

And before Naomi can open her mouth, Cas slams the door.

Silence hits the apartment like a freight train and all Cas can do is lean against the door and let the damage happen, let her life crumble around her as the walls split and the floor trembles and the ceiling falls.

The first sobs start to shake through her and she digs her back into the door and hisses as the scabs on her shoulders rub against the hard surface. It hurts but not nearly enough.

In an instant, she's gathering her phone and keys and running out of the apartment, back down to her car. Running like she can escape the breakdown swelling in her head.

She gets in her car and pulls up an old message from Alex, starts the engine and drives into the rain.


	13. Chapter 13

The rain patters across the roof, washing down the windows loudly. It creates a sort of stillness in the house, a forced sense of peace and need for quiet.

Dee can’t stand it.

“We have to watch something,” she declares from where she’s reclining on the couch.

Sam wanders out from the guest room in her giant T-shirt/nightgown thing that always makes Dee roll her eyes. “Like what?” Sam asks. “We’ve watched pretty much everything on Netflix.”

“I don’t know but I need noise before I go insane,” Dee sighs and gets up, stomping to her DVD collection.

“You’re not very good at having days off are you?” Sam teases as she sits.

“Not even a little bit.” Dee peruses the titles she has on hand, mostly oldies and classics, the kind Sam hates. “Okay, so our top contenders are ‘Star Wars,’ ‘Star Wars,’ ‘Citizen Kane,’ ‘Star Wars,’ ‘All the President’s Men,’ and — _wait for it_ — ‘Star Wars.’”

Sam’s bitchface is at atomic levels when Dee turns her grin on her sister. “I think you’re missing two 'Star Wars,'” she snarks.

“Nah, I’m just definitely not in the mood for two or three. So take your pick!”

Sam groans and sinks further in the couch cushions. “Don’t you have anything else?”

“Episode four it is! Great choice, Sammy,” she says and pops the case open.

She hears another sigh from the couch. “I’ll get the popcorn,” Sam grumbles and moves to the kitchen.

“You need to add more butter this time!” Dee calls after her.

“You need a social life!” Sam retorts.

Dee frowns and puts the disk in the DVD player. “Have a social life,” she mutters to herself. “It’s called work.”

She runs to change into pajamas while the previews start. When she returns, the entire living room smells like salt and butter and she frowns at her sister. “I said to add more butter, not give me and the entire block a heart attack.”

Sam sticks her tongue out as she fishes two beers from the fridge. “No complaining or you can make it yourself next time.”

Dee claims her corner of the couch and goes to fast-forward through the rest of the previews when there’s a knock.

Both sisters look to the door, confused by the erratic banging, then look to each other.

“You expecting someone?” Sam asks as she sets the beers and popcorn on the coffee table.

“No,” Dee answers. “It’s probably Charlie. She could sense we were about to watch ‘Star Wars’ without her.”

Sam rolls her eyes and goes to answer, and Dee shovels a handful of popcorn into her mouth, only have joking about the Charlie thing. The woman had a weird sense for knowing when Dee is doing something she’d like without her.

“Hi,” she hears Sam say from the door. “Can I help you?”

There’s some mumbled words that Dee can make out over the crash of the rain and she tries to lean back over the couch to get a peek but can just barely see her sister’s back.

“Come on in and I’ll get her,” Sam says then and she hears the door click shut and Sam shuffles back into the living room, calling, “Dee, someone’s here to see you.”

Dee hurries to swallow only to nearly choke when Cas comes around the corner.

“Cas!” she gasps and Sam’s head snaps up immediately. “What- what are you doing here?”

Cas is drenched head to toe, dark suit soaked through and hair plastered to the sides of her face and she-

“Are you not wearing any shoes?” Dee cries and runs closer.

Cas looks down and her head tilts as if she’s just now noticing that she’s barefoot. Then she looks up and it’s like looking into the eyes of a stranger again.

“I apologize for barging in on you like this, Deanna,” she says and her voice is so soft it makes Dee’s stomach turn. “But I needed to… talk to you.”

“I’m going to go grab some towels,” Sam says and gives them some space.

Dee steps closer once they’re alone, hand reaching out and hovering at Cas’s shoulder. “Cas,” she says gently, “what happened?”

Something sparks in Cas’s eyes, dull, but it’s still some sign of life and suddenly she looks scared, vulnerable and Dee lets her hands fall to clutch the other woman’s.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know- I know you hate when I do this,” Cas starts, voice shaking, “and I understand if you still say no, but I- Deanna, I-I need it. Please. I need you to finish it.”

It takes Dee a moment to understand what Cas is talking about and when it hits her, her hold loosens. “Cas…”

“I’m so sorry for asking,” Cas says in a rush. “I know it’s wrong and I should wait but this- I wouldn’t ask unless it was really important and this- this is…” Her eyes meet Dee’s and she’s never seen such raw pleading in her life. “I need it.”

Sam returns then with the towels and Dee takes one, draping it over Cas’s trembling shoulders, takes the other and covers Cas’s hair with it. Her hands work it up and down, eyes never leaving Cas’s because she can’t. They just stare each other while Dee dries her off, trying to come to an understanding, silently asking the other for something neither feels they should give.

“Please.”

Dee exhales slowly, takes a step back. “Sam, I need some time with Cas.”

Sam looks between the two of them, clearly confused and more than a little worried. “Sure. Okay, yeah. I’ll text Charlie and let her know I’m heading over. Just give me a few minutes to change.”

Sam leaves again and Dee looks Cas up and down, holds out a hand.

“Come on, I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

She leaves Cas in her room with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt so she can finish drying off and changing.

Sam is waiting out in the living room, a deep frown etched into her features. “What is going on?” she asks. “Why is Castielle Novak showing up at your house soaking wet in the middle of the night?”

Dee opens her mouth to respond but nothing good comes out because, hell, she doesn’t know either! “I’m not sure, Sammy, but I think something happened.”

“Like what?”

Dee holds her hands out. “I don’t know! But I’m going to try to figure it out and help her.”

Sam’s curiosity eases back into genuine concern. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Me? Of course. I just need some time to talk to her, get her calmed down.” Dee sighs. “You gonna be okay at Charlie’s? I’m sorry for kicking you out like this.”

“It’s fine, Dee,” Sam assures her and picks up her bag. “Just take care of her.”

Dee bites her lip, toes as the hardwood floor. “I’m trying.”

Sam heads out into the rain then and when Dee turns around, Cas is standing in the hallway, moving closer slowly. She can’t be much smaller than Dee but she seems to drown in those clothes, looking tiny but cozy almost. She offers a small smile.

“So you want to finish the back tattoo?” Dee asks and gestures for Cas to follow her into the kitchen.

“Yes, please,” Cas says, voice still soft. “If… if that’s all right with you. I understand if-”

“It’s fine, Cas. I’m just worried about you.”

Cas’s lips press into a tight line, like she’s fighting a response and Dee just sighs and points to a chair.

Dee fetches her mobile station from the closet and rolls it toward the table. Cas watches her set up for a few minutes before her eyes drive toward the living room.

“Sorry for interrupting your movie.”

“Huh?” Dee looks up, glances at the TV. “Oh. It’s just ‘Star Wars.’ Seen it like a thousand times.”

Cas continues to stare for a minute, eyes tracking Luke as he runs through the dessert. “I’ve never seen it.”

Dee’s hands pause. “Are you serious?” Cas’s answer is just a nod. “Jesus, Cas, what rock have you been living under?”

She goes back to prepping and Cas begins studying another area of the house, eyes slowly shifting to each corner.

“That woman,” she begins suddenly. “Was she… were you…”

Dee frowns again and then nearly drops her machine. “What? Sam? Oh my god, no!”

Cas’s eyes widen a fraction at Dee’s reaction. “So you two are not a couple?”

“Dude, Sam is my sister!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

Dee goes back to her machine, trying not to laugh at Cas’s absurd assumption.

“She is the one attending Stanford?”

“Yep. Turns out she’s a big fan of yours. Has been to a few of your seminars. So if you see her again, don’t be surprised if she asks for an autograph or something. Kid’s a total nerd.”

Cas hums something like laughter and Dee finishes setting up. But before she starts with Cas, she grabs a chair and sits down across from her.

“Okay, Cas, before we get into this, I have to know: what happened?”

The ice comes down immediately like a wall of defense but Dee had expected that. “Look, I’m not trying to get into your business. I… I’m worried about you. And I know something happened, don’t try to tell me it didn’t,” she says when Cas’s lips twitch because she can feel the lie from a mile away. She sighs. “I just want you to know that you can talk to me. About anything. And I’ll listen because I care about you.”

She watches as the icy front melts away, leaving Cas exposed again and looking torn. She worries at her bottom lip and Dee nods. She’s getting to her feet when Cas’s hand wraps around her wrist, drawing her gaze. Her blue eyes are just on this side of manic and all Dee wants to do is hold her, pull her close and whisper that she’ll never let her go, that she hasn’t wanted to since the first time Cas stormed into her life.

Cas swallows audibly. “I’ll tell you after,” she promises, eyes never leaving Dee’s.

Dee nods again, smiles carefully. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

They get Cas situated in the chair and she removes her shirt, holding it to her chest. Dee cleans her back, frowning at the scabs on Cas’s shoulders.

“You haven’t been taking care of these as well as you should.”

“Sorry,” Cas murmurs. “Things have been… hectic.”

“It’s okay. We’ll take care of them after.”

Dee scoots closer in her chair, grabs her machine.

“You realize this could take all night?”

“It’s okay,” Cas says, face turned away from Dee. “As long as I’m with you.”

She has no way of knowing if Cas means those words the way Dee hears them, because they make Dee’s heart ache, make her stomach break out in butterflies. But Cas doesn’t move, just keeps her face hidden in her arms.

So Dee takes a breath. And she gets to work.

They go for hours, Cas never making a sound. Dee gets lost in the buzzing, the lull of the movie playing behind her until it eventually ends.

At the three-hour mark, Dee talks Cas into a short break. It’s past midnight, she reasons. If they’re going to stay up into the morning doing this, she’s going to need coffee.

She starts a pot for them and brings over the cold popcorn to munch on while they wait. They take their time drinking their first cups and Dee makes sure Cas is actually doing okay before she puts on new gloves and picks up the machine again.

She’s getting into the finer details of the tattoo now, all the feathers and arches having been shaped and shadowed. Now she’s adding tiny lines, careful not to fill in too much, leaving feathers unfinished and entire rows burned and charred.

She leaves them bleeding in pain, hollow and filthy, aching for help or even just a drop of attention. Just begging someone to care.

Cas starts trembling when they pass six hours and Dee leans back in her chair, wiping sweat from her brow.

“Ready for another break?”

“No,” Cas answers softly. “I’m fine.”

As soon as she says it there’s a low grumbling sound and both of them look down toward Cas’s stomach. Dee arches a brow. “Someone begs to differ,” she says and stands up on wobbly legs. “Damn, maybe Charlie was right about the yoga.”

She goes to the fridge and peers inside. “Okay, so I have leftover Thai food, there’s some pasta from a few days ago… some barbeque.” She looks over at Cas. “Or I can cook something.”

Cas’s stomach growls again.

“On second hand, leftovers might be for the best. What’ll it be, Cas?”

Cas’s face is flushed red and she glares down at her stomach like it’s betrayed her. “I’ll have the Thai food.”

Dee puts the container in the microwave, then dishes the food onto two plates and sets one in front of Cas.

“I’d move us to the couch but I don’t want you to be tempted to lean back.”

“It’s fine,” Cas says as she twists in her chair and scoots to the edge of the seat.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, but it gnaws at Dee so she thinks of something.

“What else haven’t you watched?”

Cas pushes some stray noodles into her mouth and frowns as she chews. “What do you mean?”

“Like big cult classics like ‘Star Wars,’” Dee explains. “What else like that haven’t you seen?”

“Probably most of them.”

“‘Star Trek?’”

“No.”

“‘Lord of the Rings?’”

“No.”

Dee sniffs. “Okay… what about movies like ‘Fight Club’ or ‘Grease?’”

Cas reaches for her water. “None of them.”

“You’re killing me, smalls.”

The brunette’s head tilts and Dee swoons a little even through her frustration. “Why are you referring to me by my size?”

“Christ, Cas, you haven’t even watched ‘The Sandlot?’”

“That’s also a movie?”

Dee blows out a breath. “Okay, look, once all the tattoo business is over, we are giving you a complete pop culture education because this is ridiculous.”

Cas looks up like she’s been caught off guard, peering at Dee curiously. “You intend to continue seeing me even when I’m no longer a customer?”

Dee frowns, noodles hanging form her mouth. “Of course,” she says and swallows. “We’re friends, remember?” Dee doesn’t like the way the words taste on her tongue but she bites it down.

Cas is quiet for a moment before saying, “Right.”

“We’re going to watch all the classics together, okay? You’ll be a cinematic genius by the time I’m done with you.”

They finish eating in silence and Dee drains another cup of coffee because she’s getting dangerously close to her limit.

Cas spins around in her chair and Dee get back to work, adding the finishing touches. It takes another few hours and her arms are tired and her eyes feel dry and strained. She hears Cas yawning a few times, sees her head lull before Dee hits a nerve and she jolts back up.  
The light on the microwave boasts 5:37 in the morning when Dee finally lowers her machine and leans back, body limp and exhausted.

“Done,” she breathes.

Cas jumps up, filled with an energy Dee doesn’t understand. She turns wild eyes on the tired artist. “Is there a mirror?”

“Ugh there’s a full length one in my room.”

She takes off the down the hall and with a sigh, Dee follows.

Cas stands in the middle of the room, back to the mirror as she peers over her shoulder, taking in the crude design now adorning the slope of her spine. It shines with the still wet ink, almost like black fire licking across her skin, burning into her bones. It’s harsh and horrid and Dee wants to cringe, can barely believe she created that and stained it on a beautiful body.

But then Cas is looking right at her and instead of the regret or sorrow Dee had been expecting, she looks… thankful?

Dee is barely given a second to process it before Cas is running toward her and then their lips are touching.

Cas kisses like a woman starving for air, like someone whose full to the brim with passion but has never been given the chance to express it. She kisses with her whole body, back arching forward, bare chest pressing into Dee, hands moving in the blonde’s hair and up her back, legs sliding between Dee’s thighs.

She kisses like it’s her first and her last and Dee feeds into it with everything she has because she doesn’t know if this will be their first and only and if it’s going to be her last, then she never wants it to end.

She grips Cas’s waist, pulling her even closer somehow as they stumble toward the bed and Dee sits, dragging Cas into her lap. Cas comes willingly and eagerly, arms circling Dee’s head to keep her close and locked in place.

Cas tastes like coffee and her hands are warm everywhere she touches, trailing fire across Dee’s skin at her neck, her arms, her stomach when she begins to push her shirt up.

It’s all so fast and dizzying that Dee almost loses herself in it, in the heat of Cas.

“Wait,” she breathes between kisses. “Cas. Wait.”

Cas leans back, panting, eyes a little dazed. “What’s wrong?”

Her lips are so shiny and swollen Dee wants to groan and dive back in. “Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think we should do this now.”

She feels the way Cas tenses, how she withdraws. “Oh.” She starts to crawl out of Dee’s lap and Dee grabs on for dear life.

“Cas, no, it’s not-” She leans in to kiss Cas’s cheek as the woman pouts on top of her. “It’s not that I don’t want to because I have wanted this since the moment I saw you.”

Cas’s cheeks turn bright pink. “Then why did you stop?”

“Because I care about you a lot and I know there’s something bigger going on with you.” Dee kisses her other cheek, her chin. “And I think that’s what we need to focus on right now.”

Cas relaxes but is looking like she wants to argue.

“Also you have a fresh tattoo on your back that we need to wrap,” Dee reminds her.

“I suppose that’s a good point,” Cas concedes and crawls to the side, freeing Dee.

She looks a little out of place and at a loss of what to do sitting on Dee’s bed and Dee can’t help bending down and kissing her forehead. “I’m going to go grab what I need and I’ll be right back.”

Cas nods and Dee hurries back to the kitchen, grabbing the equipment and running back to her room. Cas is just as she left her and Dee grins.

“Lie down on your stomach,” she directs.

Cas arches a brow but opens, stretching across the bed on her stomach. Dee kneels on the mattress and shuffles closer, settling at Cas’s hips.

“I’m going to treat your old scabs and then bandage you up, okay?”

Cas’s response is a barely there hum.

Dee sets about dabbing the scabs with a special ointment, letting her fingers drift north every once in a while to knead at the top of Cas’s shoulders, the base of her neck. She applies the bandages, wrapping them around Cas’s entire torso.

By the end of it she’s straddling Cas, still massaging the parts of her back that she can reach without touching the tattoo and Cas is lax and languid beneath her. A few times, Dee was sure she was sleeping and she grins. She bends forward and hides a kiss behind Cas’s ear, right by her bee.

“All done.”  
Cas’s moan is soft and a little frustrated and makes Dee laugh. She crawls off the woman and lays down beside her.  
“Tired?”  
Cas’s eyes are closed but she hums in answer. Her dark bangs sweep across her forehead and Dee longs to push them back, tuck them behind her ear, but she keeps her hands close.

“Okay. Sleep tight.”

She starts to rise, edging off the bed when a hand grabs her, wrapping around her wrist again. When Dee looks down two blue eyes peer up at her, tired but expectant and Dee knows in that moment that she’ll do anything — now and forever — anything those eyes ever ask of her.

“Stay.”


	14. Chapter 14

In her life, Castielle has loved two girls.

The first was a redhead in her seventh-grade English class named Abby who always smelled like bubblegum and had a wide gap between her two front teeth. She loved to smile and Cas loved to earn those smiles and jumped at any excuse to touch her like a thirsting man being offered a drop of water.

They were always innocent. Fingers to the forearms, pushing a stray lock of hair back from her face, dusting eyelashes from her cheeks.  
She didn’t scream when Cas kissed her for the first time, just looked confused. But then she smiled and she leaned in for another, passing the taste of chocolate and peanut butter to Cas’s lips and Cas savored it.

Abby was bolder than Cas, braver and more vibrant in everyway. She loved holding hands and always sat a little too close, begged for quick kisses between classes and Cas could never tell her no. Could never pull herself away. She got too swept up in feeling happiness for the first time to notice the danger lurking ahead.

Mother said Cas had to go to the doctor, that she was very sick. It was a doctor far away and Cas was too young to understand, to suspect, to ask questions. They took her to the doctor and she didn’t leave for six months.

The second was a woman she met her junior year of college. Meg was brown-haired and short but had a personality that towered over them all, a sharp tongue and a crude gaze that caught even Cas off guard.

Their touches were not so innocent. Their touches felt like earthquakes, smelled like cheap tequila, sounded like desperation.

She was the first woman whose kisses didn’t taste like electrocution. She was the first woman whose eyes didn’t flash with images of male anatomy. Her laughter didn’t make Cas want to vomit and her fingers didn’t feel like rubber bands snapping on her wrists.

Meg was like breathing fresh air, like feeling sunshine on your face after a lifetime in shadow. Meg was like sprinting down an old road, familiar but almost forgotten and you don’t know where it ends but you know it’s the right direction.

Meg was freedom and Cas loved her with everything she had. Couldn’t imagine she could love anyone more, that there was still something in her to give.

Deanna snorts in her sleep, eyes pinching as she fights the morning for a few more minutes of rest. Cas lies on her stomach, tucked into Deanna’s side, head nestled in the crook of the blonde woman’s arm and she watches. Deanna breathes out and her face relaxes. She’s won.

Cas smiles.

She had thought she could never love anyone more. How terribly wrong she had been.

If Meg had felt like reuniting with sunshine, then Deanna is the sun, radiating light and hope and somehow becoming the center of Cas’s universe in just a few months.

Deanna stirs again and this time her struggle seems fruitless. Her nose scrunches and then one eye slowly peels open. She looks down and blinks a few times before her other eye opens and her lips curve into the brightest of smiles.

“Hey, sunshine,” she whispers, voice rough and scratchy.

“Hello,” Cas replies and her voice is in a similar condition.

Deanna is still smiling as her eyes roam, seeming to take in Cas’s entire body once piece at a time. “Could get used to waking up like this.”

If her intention is to make Cas blush, she succeeds, and Cas lowers her head, trying to hide her face.

“Hey, don’t hide,” Deanna laughs and follows, scooting her body down the bed until they’re face to face.

Cas can feel her watching and feels a swell of ridiculousness. She’s a grown woman hiding in another woman’s bed, blushing over something so simple.

“Cas,” Deanna coaxes.

Cas lowers her hands and Deanna smiles gently, doesn’t speak until they’re facing each other directly and Cas smiles back.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Hello,” Cas whispers back.

“How’s your tattoo?”

Her back is sore, the skin irritated and the muscles strained from sitting in that awful position too long. But it’s there; the tattoo is there, completely finished and everything she’s ever wanted.

“It’s great.”

Deanna’s smile saddens and she bites her lip, eyes shifting. “So… I know we agreed to talk after all this. But if you… still need time, I understand.” She looks back to Cas and presses her lips together. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Cas’s stomach sinks, the pleasant morning blowing away in an instant.

She’s been expecting this for a while now, knows Deanna has questions and concerns and for the first time in her life, Cas wants to tell someone. She’s never told a soul about what happened, not even Meg — though she sometimes got the feeling that Meg had suspected.

“Cas,” Deanna says softly. “You don’t- Look, you don’t have to talk. I’m sorry I said anything.”

“No,” Cas says, looking away. “It’s okay. I… I want to tell you.” She sucks in a deep breath. “But it’s not a pleasant story.”

A warm hand slides into her, fingers interlacing, and Cas looks up, finds Deanna’s green eyes shining at her. “I’m here.”


	15. Chapter 15

Sam taps her foot loudly and impatiently as Dee finishes with a customer. They man pays, shooting an odd look Sam’s way and head for the door.

“Thanks again!” Dee calls after him and the door jingles closed. She looks at Sam. “What?”

“Don’t you dare _what_ me,” Sam snaps. “What the hell happened last night?”

Dee collapses in the desk chair and sighs, pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Nothing really. I just finished her tattoo.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. You were three hours late to an appointment. You’re never late to an appointment.”

“Okay so we talked a little.”

“Deanna.”

“What, Sam?” Dee cries. “What the hell do you want from me? You wanna know if we hooked up? Well, not that it’s any of your damn business, but the answer is no.”

Sam’s face relaxes, lips pouting apologetically. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I just… She was so upset last night. What happened?”

Dee purses her lips and looks up at her little sister. “Sammy… Do you remember when I came out to the family?”

Sam frowns, confused. “Yeah, a little. Mom and Dad were super cool about it.”

“Yeah, they were,” Dee agrees. “But do you remember what Grandpa Samuel said?”

“No.”

“He told Dad that he needed to send me to this church. They held workshops after school. Some B.S. about spiritual guidance.” Dee rolls her eyes.

“So?”

“It was conversion therapy, Sam. He wanted me to go through conversion therapy.”

Sam’s jaw drops. “That’s- that’s horrible, Dee.”

“Exactly. Now take that and multiply it by about a million and that’s what Cas has been through.”

“You mean…?”

Dee nods, staring ahead into nothing. “For years.”

Cas’s story had left Dee in a state of desolation, stripped the world of color, left her without senses for a few minutes where she tried to fathom the awful possibility.

She had looked across the bed at this woman who had survived a sort of torture she had never wanted to imagine, a woman who had never felt love or care, who had never been allowed to heal. A woman held together by band aids and expensive suits.

When Cas finished her story they had held each other, both somehow wounded by the words. It had taken Dee an hour to find the strength to say something and then she couldn’t even think of what to say. What words were worthy to respond to such trauma? What words could stand in the face of those unforgivable acts and try to make things better?

None. There were no words.

Still, Dee opened her mouth and the words that came out were, “I’m so happy you exist.”

She didn’t fully understand them herself or the impact they had, but Cas was suddenly kissing her again and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“I don’t know how she does it, Sam,” Dee says. “How she even stands to look at any of her family. How she doesn’t lose it every day. I-I… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Sam is quiet, sinking into the other chair.

“And how… where do we go from here?” Dee asks, looking up imploringly. “I mean, she just… she’s so hurt, Sammy, and I don’t even know where to start or how- how to help. I’m no good at this stuff, I can’t-”

“Deanna, you’re the best at this stuff,” Sam cuts in, voice gentle. “You’re the most caring, nurturing person I know, and if there’s anyone who can help Cas through this, it’s you. She needs you right now.”

They had woken up again to Dee’s phone ringing, her client wondering where she was. The only thing that kept Dee from saying she couldn’t make it was Cas shaking her head. She whispered something about needing to go, things to take care of.

Dee had watched her go, all sense of modesty between them gone as Cas crawled from the bed, naked, slowly collecting her clothes and redressing right in front of Dee. It was miraculous, almost, the way Cas’s body moved, so fluid and graceful. Her hair was a dark wild mane, cascading down her back, brushing soft tan skin. She made fastening a bra performance art and Dee couldn’t pull her eyes away, not even when Cas caught her gaze in the mirror and smiled.

“You know, normally, when someone stays over, I make breakfast in the morning,” Dee had said, walking Cas to the door.

Cas stopped with a hand on the knob, bit back a smile but Dee caught it anyway. “Rain check?”

They didn’t kiss goodbye but Dee didn’t worry too much about it.

“I think I love her, Sam.”

She looks at her sister, trying to piece together her words with her rambling thoughts. Sam lifts an unimpressed brow, rolls her eyes. “You _think?_ ”


	16. Chapter 16

Everything feels off on Thursday. Something about the sound of the office, the cadence and rhythm of the staplers and shrill phones. It’s wrong and has Cas on the edge of her seat.

Alex runs in to go over her schedule for the day, emphasizing the Colfax meeting at two o’clock.

“And don’t forget you have the rehearsal dinner at seven.”

Cas looks up, brows furrowed. “What?”

“The rehearsal dinner,” Alex repeats slowly. “For your sister’s wedding… On Saturday.”

_And there it is._

Cas has to fight down the panic storming in her stomach, tries to blink away her apparent shock as Alex stares at her.

“Right. Rehearsal dinner.”

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Alex asks.

“Of course. Thank you, Alex.”

The young woman leaves, closing the door quietly and Cas turns her chair toward the wall of windows behind her, gazing down at the busy street below.

She can’t believe she let the dinner slip her mind — hell, she’d almost forgotten about the wedding entirely.

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, tries to find the will to steel herself, to just push through this and get to the other side, but it’s not coming to her and all she can do is slouch in her chair and continue staring.

Roman calls a while later, checking up on the Colfax case again and it takes everything Cas has not to hang up. She has interns and assistants coming in and out of her office all day with briefs and memos, documents that need her seal of approval, suits that need her signature and it leaves her more exhausted than she’s ever felt in all the years she’s worked here.

There’s a reprieve close to noon and Cas sits at her desk, just breathing, trying to find some calm.

When had her life turned to this?

“Ms. Novak?” Alex’s voice comes through the intercom.

Cas almost growls. “Yes, Alex?”

“There’s a Deanna Winchester here to see you. She claims to be a close friend, but I’ve never-”

“Send her in.”

Cas is up in an instant, heart beating wildly, skipping a few beats when the door handle twists and Deanna slips inside.  
She’s dressed differently, tight jeans and a snug sweater. Still very much Deanna but Cas can tell this is a level up for her and it makes her smile as she crosses the office in quick strides, until she has Deanna’s arms around her and they’re kissing.

They haven’t managed to see each other since last weekend, both of their schedules seeming to defy them and their needs. It’s been driving Cas up the wall. Of course she was used to not seeing Deanna for lengths of time, but it was different now. They were different now. She didn’t know exactly what they were but she did know that she needed this woman, needed to feel her and taste her and hear her voice and count her smiles.

And here she is and Cas feels her breaths coming easier even as she pants as their kiss picks up, growing more intense as hands begin to wander.

It’s dizzying but wonderful.

They break a part after a minute or maybe hours, Cas doesn’t know. When she pulls back she’s stunned by how disheveled Deanna looks, hair a mess and sweater askew.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she begins, pulling at the hem.  
“It’s fine; the enthusiasm is flattering,” Deanna laughs and fixes it herself. “So, ugh… hi.”

Cas smiles, tries to keep it contained. “Hello.”

They stare at each other for a minute, getting lost in the other’s eyes, which Cas is coming to accept as one of her favorite activities.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asks.

“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to get lunch?”

Cas tilts her head. “Not the first part.”

Deanna sighs. “Yeah, fair enough. I… I just really wanted to see you so I…” She trails off, gesturing down at herself.

“Did you dress up for me?”

“Excuse me? What? I- I don’t- y-you haven’t even began to see dressy,” Deanna sputters, eyes looking everywhere but at Cas. “Okay, if I wanted to dress up, you would lose your mind.”

“Is that so?” Cas asks, a smile forming.

Deanna snorts. “Oh yeah. You have no idea what you’re in for. Okay, my legs might be bowed but I can rock a dress like you wouldn’t believe.”

Cas looks down, then back up, catching Deanna’s eyes. “I look forward to seeing that some day.”

Deanna winks, tongue clicking against her teeth. “You should be so lucky.”

Cas laughs then and turns to her desk, missing the way Deanna’s eyes widen and how her smile turns soft. She picks up her bag, swipes her phone off her desk. “So where did you have in mind for lunch?”

“Hell if I know,” Deanna says as she follows Cas out the door. “I didn’t expect security to even let me get this far. You choose.”

Cas is perfectly aware of the stares they get as they cross the floor to the elevator. If Deanna notices, she doesn’t let on, just continues chattering. She waits until they’re alone in the elevator to step close, shoulders brushing and it makes Cas happier than it should. She wants to kiss her again, right here, pressed up against the wall. But there’s a camera. So she settles for touching her hand.

They had texted throughout the week, had a few brief phone calls even, but nothing compared to having Deanna right by her side, to seeing her smile in person and catching the fruity scent of her hair on the breeze.

They find a sandwich shop a few blocks away, nothing too fancy and Cas can tell how Deanna relaxes as they walk inside.

“Is this where you usually eat?” Deanna asks as they claim a table.

“No,” Cas admits. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

Deanna has this look on her face like she knows something, her lips twitching at the corners. It isn’t unpleasant in the least but somehow brings a blush out of Cas that she attempts to hide behind her menu.

“So how has your week been?” Cas asks as soon as they finish placing their orders.

“Okay. Sammy went back to school so I’m an empty nester again.”

Cas loves the way Deanna smiles at her own joke.

“How about you?”

_Stressful. A nightmare. I can’t focus on anything. I feel like I’m losing my purpose, like my life is slipping through my fingers, I can’t breathe when I think about tonight, I want to run away. I missed you._

Cas bites her tongue. _Too soon._ “Fine.”

“Cas.” When she looks up, Deanna is watching her, body leaned forward, hand reaching across the table. Her fingers slide across Cas’s. It’s the simplest of touches but it feels like being offered the world. All Cas can do is blink. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

She stares into her eyes, finding trust in the emerald galaxies Deanna carries with her, hope in the curve of her lips, and unspoken promises hiding in her freckles.

“I…” Cas takes a breath. “I forgot that I had to go to my sister’s rehearsal dinner tonight.”

“For the wedding?”

“Yes.”

Deanna waits a second, worries her bottom lip before nodding with understanding. “Your mother will be there.”

Cas sighs and looks down at the table. “Yes.”

“Oh, Cas.” Deanna’s fingers squeeze around hers. “Is there- could you skip it?”

“No, I- I couldn’t do that to Anna,” Cas says. “I don’t want to do that to Anna. This is supposed to be about her.”

“Yeah, but you can’t sacrifice your own well-being to make her happy.”

Cas smiles wanly. “I think we’re all guilty of doing just that. At least a few times in our lives.”

Deanna clucks her tongue. “Fair point. But Cas this is bigger for you. Your mother… I mean, I know I haven’t met her but-”

“She’s a terrible person. I know. And I don’t want to be around her but I also can’t let her ruin every aspect of my life. My relationship with Anna is the only good family tie I have. I have to be there for her.”

Deanna looks ready to argue but their food arrives then and her grimace transforms into a smile as she thanks the waitress.  
“I still don’t like it,” she says when they’re alone again.

“The sandwich?”

“No, Cas, the dinner. And the wedding, actually. You’re going to be surrounded by all of these awful people who have never cared about you and you’ll be alone.”

Cas has no response to that and just bites into her sandwich, taking time to chew and swallow. Deanna watches her for a few seconds before doing the same, eyes still careful and observant.

_Alone._

It’s not an uncommon feeling for Cas at family functions, but for some reason, when Deanna says it, it makes her chest ache.

“What if I came with you?”

Cas looks up and finds Deanna still watching her. “What?”

“What if I came with you?” the blonde repeats.

“To the rehearsal dinner?”

“To the wedding,” Deanna clarifies. “So that when you’re standing up there, you can look out and know that you have someone on your side in the crowd. And then after the ceremony, we can get drunk and dance inappropriately in front of all the old homophobes.” She smirks.

Cas is blown away by the suggestion, slowly processing it.

“I mean, unless you don’t want me-”

“No,” Cas says too fast, too loud. “I- I do. I just… I don’t think it would be good for you.”

Deanna’s smile wilts. “What do you mean?”

“You know how my family is with me,” Cas begins slowly. “Just imagine them around a stranger. If they saw you — if they saw you with me — they’d be merciless, Deanna, and I… I don’t want you to be around that, to hear the things they’d say. I don’t want to hear the things they’d say because you-” Heat builds in Cas and she can’t bring herself to finish, just hangs her head.

Their table is silent for a few heavy heartbeats until the warmth of Deanna’s hand returns, wrapping around Cas’s wrist and stroking the soft skin until she finds the strength to look up.

“It’s okay,” Deanna tells her. “I get it.”

Cas can only nod, still too scared to talk with the storm of emotions turning inside her and she will not cry in a sandwich shop.

“I just want you to be safe, Cas. And I want you to be happy. Because you deserve to be,” Deanna says, voice dropping to a whisper, “more than anyone I know.”

Cas wants to tell her that she is happy, that Deanna makes her feel happier than anything in the world, that knowing her has brought light into her life brighter than she’d ever known possible. She wants to tell her that it feels like she’s been tiptoeing on the edge of a cloud for years, just waiting to make the wrong move that would send her falling and how sick it used to make her. But she sees Deanna, so green and vibrant, and Cas feels like leaping because she knows just where she’ll land and she knows she’s going to be caught and she’ll be at home.

_You are my earth._

Instead she says, “Thank you.”

They finish eating and head back to Cas’s office, and Cas is shocked when Deanna holds her hand for the first few blocks, misses it when she pulls away as the round the final corner.

“You sure you’re going to be okay tonight?” Deanna asks as they stop outside the front door.

Cas smiles, ridiculously giddy over how concerned Deanna is. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Most of the focus with be on Anna and Inias anyway. I’m sure I’ll blend into the shadows.”

Deanna doesn’t look satisfied but nods. “Okay. I’ll be thinking about you.”

Cas’s heart flutters. “And I you.”

The smile that twists the blonde woman’s face is dazzling and she takes a step back, raising a hand to wave. “Call me after, okay?”

“Of course.”

Cas watches Deanna take a few more steps backward and then she’s turning and disappearing into the crowd.


	17. Chapter 17

“Have fun on your date with Cas yesterday?” Charlie asks as Dee enters the shop.

“It wasn’t a date,” Dee gripes, tossing her bag on the desk.

Pam snorts. “Oh, right, what’s that word people use when two humans with a sexual or romantic interest in each other go out and spend quality time with one another?”

Dee tries to look unamused but it crumbles and then she’s blushing, lowering her head. “Okay, yeah, it was a date.”

“And how did it go?” Charlie asks again.

Dee sits and sighs loudly, trying to find the right words. “It was… intense,” she settles on. “We got lunch, talked a little. I walked her back to her office.”

“Which part of that was intense?” Pam wonders.

Dee rolls her eyes. “The stuff we talked about was intense. Ya know, Cas has a lot going on right now and she was honest with me about it.”

Charlie nods her head. “Do you think this is actually going to go anywhere?”

“I don’t know,” Dee shrugs. “But I hope so. I don’t want it to stop.”

“Oh, I think you two are going to work out just fine,” Pam says with certainty. “You have a long, happy life together in front of you.”

The words settle warmly in Dee’s gut and she smirks. “Yeah? How do you know?”

Pam waves a hand. “I just know these things,” she says and walks away.

Dee looks to Charlie who rolls her eyes. “You guys stare at each other all the fucking time. It’s creepy. But also kinda cute.”

Benny arrives then, breaking up the conversation. Dee shows him back to her chair, pulls out her design and proceeds to work on him for the next seven hours.

Benny is a chatterbox, probably one of the worst she’s ever had, but on a day like today she figures a distraction is in order.  
Cas had called last night and, as expected, things hadn’t gone great at the rehearsal dinner. She wouldn’t go into detail over the phone, but Dee could tell she was hurt and she wanted to hold her. But no amount of coaxing could convince Cas to come over, not when they both had work in the morning. She was holding out hope that tonight could be different.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Benny says during one of their breaks.

“Got a lot on my mind,” Dee says as she stands up and stretches.

The burly man grunts. “Anything to do with this new girl of yours I’ve heard some much about?”

“Fucking Charlie,” Dee hisses under her breath.

“Don’t be mad at Red,” Benny chuckles. “She was just happy for you.”

“She could be happy and keep her mouth shut.”

“That wouldn’t like her at all, now would it? So. Tell me about this mystery woman.”

Dee rolls her eyes and settles back onto her stool. “She’s great, Benny. Really great. Complicated and a little intimidating but…” She shakes her head, breaking off in a smile. “Great.”

Benny doesn’t respond for a second, just watches her as she daydreams about Cas and those brilliant blue eyes, before releasing a low whistle. “Wow, you’ve got it bad.”

The reverie is broken. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” she huffs.

“Because just talking about her made you look like you were stargazing. I see what Red meant when she said it was gross.”

Dee rolls to pull on a new pair of gloves and picks up her machine.

“So you think she’s the one?”

She snorts. “Is there a such thing as the one?”

Benny grunts. “I know Andrea’s the one for me.”

Dee turns the machine on and leans toward Benny’s arm, picking up where she left off.

She’d nearly laughed her ass off seven months ago when they were all hanging out and Benny said he wanted a pirate ship on his shoulder. All of his other tattoos were relatively simplistic, just symbols and a few quotes connecting him to his Louisiana roots – and that one on his chest of Andrea’s name because they were _those_ people.

But as she had worked on in over the last few months, she had to say it was coming together pretty nicely. She’d put a lot of detail into the ship, trying to make the wooden fixture look as realistic as possible, and trying to give the sails as much movement as possible. It was a challenge, to say the least, but would pay off once it was finished.

They stopped for the day around five o’clock when Benny’s pain tolerance started to dwindle and Dee’s stomach was growling.

“I’d say one more visit and we’re done,” Dee says as she cleans him up.

“Thank god,” Benny groans. “You know I love these things but, damn, they hurt like a bitch.”

“Art isn’t always pleasant.”

They walk out to the front, empty as Charlie and Pam are with their own customers.

“Hey, Benny,” Dee says as he hands over his credit card. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That Andrea was your one?”

Benny lifts a brow, takes back his card and gives a thoughtful sigh. “I think I knew when her happiness became more important to me than my own. It’s easy to say you’ll do anything for someone, but I never truly meant it until it came to Andrea.”

Dee nods thoughtfully, arches a brow. “Sounds like you’re just whipped.”

“Oh, I am,” Benny says with a proud smile. “Hundred percent. And I love every second of it.”

“Now who’s being the gross one?”

Benny shrugs. “Love is gross sometimes. You’ll understand some day, cher.” And with a wink, he walks outside.

Dee sits down and frowns. _When her happiness became more important to me than my own._

She’s hard pressed to think of anything more important than Cas’s happiness at the moment. Cas is all she thinks about, night and day. Just wondering when the next time she’ll see her, if she had a good breakfast, if the people at work are being kind to her, if she’ll find some strange Internet video Dee sends her funny.

How often she can make Cas smile. How many times she can get Cas to laugh.

How long she can kiss her until they need to breathe. How far her hands can roam until Cas starts to tremble.

Thinking of Cas, thinking of being with Cas, is like flying. So terrifying but worth every trip and stumble and moments of paralysis. Dee would rise above it all to be with Cas and she aches to tell her that, to let her know that she makes Dee want to taste the wind and touch the moon on her way up to her.

To say… _you are my stars._

“Hey, stop drooling on the desk and answer your phone,” Charlie barks.

Dee jolts, looking at her friend than down at her phone where it buzzes. She picks it up and sees a message from Cas that makes her heart seize.

 **Cas:** I miss you every second.


	18. Chapter 18

The hotel is in full-blown chaos when Cas arrives on the dot at eight a.m. There are people shuffling back and forth across the lobby, carrying crystal vases and tablecloths. She finds Anna in the lobby, looking more and more irritated by the second as the wedding planner chatters.

“They’re supposed to be _cream,_ Donna, not _white,_ ” Anna seethes.

“We’re on it, Ms. Novak,” Donna says, tapping her ear piece. “The florist is on the phone now. We need- No, I said the mini callas!” The woman turns and sprints away as Cas approaches, frowning after her.

“What’s that about?”

Anna practically growls as she spins around. “They sent the wrong flowers.”

“I see,” Cas lies with all the sympathy she can muster.

“These flowers are the only thing keeping my wedding from looking like the fucking Emerald City,” Anna hisses. “So if I don’t see ten dozen ivory mini callas in the next hour, I will _burn this city to the ground!_ ”

The employees slow to a stop, eyeing the screaming redhead and Cas sends an apologetic smile as she grabs her hand and whisks her away, suggesting, “Let’s find the bar.”

She manages to keep Anna hidden away for a good hour, the bartender on strict orders to maintain a steady champagne stream.

But Donna finds them eventually, urging Anna to return. “Your mother has arrived.”

Anna’s response is to groan and drops her head on the bar.

Cas sighs and drains her glass. “I’ll go.”

Anna turns her head, cheek still smashed to the wooden counter, eyes much softer now. “Really?”

“Consider it my first wedding present,” Cas says then snaps at the bartender. “She gets one more glass then she’s cut off.”

Cas follows Donna back into the lobby. She’s barely four feet in when she hears Naomi barking orders and icy criticisms and freezes in her step.

“Where is my daughter?” Naomi demands, letting her voice echo through the room.

Donna looks back at her, frowning. “Ms. Novak? Is everything all right?”

Cas glances at the blonde woman, her kind eyes and soft face and wonders how she even got hired to work for her family, how she has survived this far. “Tell Naomi that Anna is resting and is not to be disturbed until the hairdresser arrives. She is to help you set up the ceremony hall; I’ll be in the ballroom preparing for the reception.”

She walks off without waiting for an answer.

Cas spends the next three hours arranging chairs and place settings, checking the lighting and going over the seating chart. The flowers are delivered closer to ten than nine, but Anna doesn’t need to know that. The bridesmaids wander in not long after and Cas sends them to keep Anna company.

By eleven o’clock the hair and makeup team arrives and Cas turns over the clipboard to drag the bridal party up to their suite.

Anna is smiley and pliant as her hair is curled and her face practically painted. Cas agrees to go last so she can run over and check on Inias and the groomsmen.

Inias is all smiles as he’s shoved into his suit, letting the tailor adjust his tie and straighten his seam.

“You’re a lot calmer than I expected,” Cas admits. “I thought you’d still be hungover. Or at least covered in glitter.”

“Come on, Cas, you know that’s not my scene,” Inias laughs. He turns, face sobering as he steps toward her, letting his voice drop. “Is Anna doing okay?”

His concern makes Cas smile. “Yeah, she’s doing great. I got some champagne into her pretty early.”

He grins. “Good idea. Has Naomi…?”

“Been kept as far away from your future wife as possible? Absolutely.”

Relief crosses his face, lets his shoulders relax. “You’re a miracle, Cas.”

“Just take care of my sister, Inias,” Cas says. “Make sure she’s happy.”

The men are sent for their pre-wedding photos and Cas returns to the bridal suite. Lunch arrives while she’s getting her makeup done but she gets up to make sure Anna puts something in her stomach before getting out her dress.

It’s of course then that Naomi finally makes her appearance, breaking into the room with a feral smile and a nervous Donna behind her. Her eyes appraise each of them slowly, icing over when she gets to Cas. Cas looks away.

“I see you’ve all been busy,” Naomi says stiffly.

“Well, it is my wedding day,” Anna replies, shifting so the seamstress can adjust her skirt. “Lots to do.”

“Yes, it seems your sister has been on top of things.”

Cas refuses to look up, can here the bitterness in their mother’s voice, the accusations.

“Yeah, Cas has been doing great,” Anna says too cheerfully. “She’s kept everything running smoothly and kept me calm all day. Honestly, Cas, if you ever want to quit law, I think you have a promising future as a wedding planner.”

Cas catches her wink and smirks. “Thanks.”

Naomi watches their exchange, shoulders tensing. Then she’s stepping forward, back turned purposefully to Cas as she approaches Anna, scanning her head to toe. “I still can’t believe this is the dress you went with.”

Anna smiles thinly. “It’s the dress I liked, Mother.”

“Still,” Naomi says, “we could have gone with something that accentuated your figure.”

Hael gives a small gasp and Cas bristles. “You look beautiful, Anna,” she assures her sister.

“Well, of course you look beautiful, darling,” Naomi says, moving to her front. “I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t. Your dress is lovely. However, I do think we should try something different with your hair.”

“Girls,” Cas barks suddenly, getting to her feet. “I think it’s time you all go get into your dresses as well. We have pictures soon. Katherine will you please help them?”

Hael and Hannah exchange uncomfortable looks before standing and shuffling into the next room where their dresses wait, the seamstress right behind them.

“Donna, if you could please show the hair and makeup team to Mother’s suite. We all need to be ready in the hour.”

“Of course, right this way,” Donna starts, gesturing for the team of artists to follow.

She can feel Naomi’s eyes on her and for the first time today she looks up and meets them head on. “I don’t-”

“One more word,” Cas says, stepping into her mother’s personal space, adrenaline pulsing through her veins wildly. “One more word.”  
Naomi’s eyes burn but she closes her mouth.

“You are going to go to your room and let the team take care of you. The next time Anna is to see you will be during the ceremony. You will congratulate her after and then leave her alone for the rest of the night. Do you understand me?”

“How d-”

“One,” Cas growls.

Anna watches them, completely bewildered, as they glare at one another until Naomi finally throws her shoulders back and marches out of the room.

“What the hell was that?” Anna asks, more than a little dumbfounded.

Cas exhales, her breath shaky and she can feel the tremble falling to her hands. “Mother and I just finally came to an understanding.”  
“Understanding? Cas, you just got Naomi Novak to submit. I don’t think that’s happened since she was four months old.” Anna steps toward her, eyes worried. “Did something happen?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Cas says. “Come help me cover up these tattoos so I can get into my dress.”

The ceremony goes without a hitch. Anna and Inias exchange tearful vows and Cas watches on, fighting her own tears as they prick her eyes. She listens to their words, their promises to each other, and the way they spin an image of someone in her mind, someone with blonde hair and flowers on her hand.

She looks out in the crowd but doesn’t find the face she wants to see, fights to keep her smile in place.

They take time after the ceremony for a few more photos, and Cas grins at the way Anna and Inias seem to glow as they hold on to each other through the camera flashes.

They transition to the ballroom where dinner goes smoothly and Cas and the best man give their speeches. The cake is cut. The dancing begins.

Cas leans back in her chair, sighing in relief. They made it. _She_ made it.

She gets her phone from Donna, thanking the woman for all her hard work, and hides in a corner to text Deanna.

 **Deanna:** what time should I be there?

 **Cas:** 10:00.

She waits a few seconds for a response.

 **Deanna:** kinda early to be bailing on a wedding don’t you think?

 **Cas:** I thought I was being generous. I wanted to leave at 8:30.

 **Deanna:** 10 it is

“Who ya texting?”

Cas jumps, shooting her cousin a dirty look over her shoulder. “Don’t do that, Gabe.”

He just smiles, pushing a piece of cake into his mouth. “Is it work? You know your boss is like right over there.” He points behind him where Dick Roman is indeed standing, charming a group of people.

“It’s not work,” Cas says.

“Well all your relatives are in this room, so if it’s not work or family…” Gabe gasps. “Cassie, do you have a friend?”

Cas glares at him. “Do you have to make it sound like the very idea is ludicrous?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot that you’re actually a social butterfly who takes to people like bees to honey.”

“The sarcasm is unnecessary.” Cas sighs. “It is a friend, yes.”

“Like… a special friend?” Gabe asks, wriggling his brows.

“Get away from me.”

“So that’s a yes,” Gabe decides.

Cas tries to escape him but he follows her around the ballroom, demanding details and when Cas adamantly stonewalls him they settle for drinking together in silence. She isn’t too upset by it because it’s Gabe at least. They’ve never been particularly close but he isn’t as bigoted as the rest of their family. He’s the only relative outside of her siblings and parents who knows about her sexuality, the only one she’s ever trusted and he’s never had a cruel word to say about it.

Cas suspects part of it is because he doesn’t play just one side of the court. They’ve never talked about it, she’s never asked. But there have been a few comments throughout the years to make her wonder. It certainly wouldn’t be a surprise if Gabe were something other than straight, not to her or even their extended family.

“Castielle, Gabriel.”

They both look up and are swarmed by Michael, Lucifer, and a group of friends. Cas relaxes her face, draws on a small smile in greeting.  
“Gentlemen, this is my youngest sister, Castielle,” Michael introduces. “And our cousin, Gabriel. Castielle is up for partner at Roman and Styne.”

One of the strange men raises a brow, looking Cas up and down. “Is that so? An impressive feat for one so young.”

“She may not look it but she’s one of the sharpest lawyers on the west coast,” Lucifer boasts and Cas’s smile hardens.

“Are you sure that’s the route you want to go down?” another man asks. “Not much time left for family once you go partner.”

Cas’s hair stands up on end and she’s about to put them all in line when another voice breaks in.

“Oh, Cas here doesn’t have to worry about any of that.”

They all turn to Bartholomew strolling toward them, whiskey in hand. He stops next to Cas, nudging her shoulder. “Hard to start a family without all the right parts involved, right, Cas?”

“Bartholomew,” Michael says lowly. “Having a good time?”

The blond man lifts his glass. “Splendid.”

Cas is left speechless, body gone cold as the strange men surrounding her frown, looking between her and Bartholomew.

“I’m sorry did you say-”

“So did anyone else catch that ‘Bachelor’ finale?” Gabe cuts in. “I mean, _Vanessa?_ Who saw that coming?”

No one responds, just blinks at the shorter man with confused frowns. Gabe doesn’t seem to mind, just goes on with, “But it’s nice that Rachel is getting her own season. You know she’s the first-”

“Please excuse me,” Cas says and makes her escape.

She slips out onto the veranda, sucking in deep breaths as her nerves go on the fritz. She’ll kill Bartholomew when she gets the chance but for now she just focuses on her breathing and hides from the party.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes before Cas feels good enough to go back inside. She heads straight for the bar, just sipping her wine when Naomi flies in.

“What are you trying to pull?” she hisses.

“I thought we agreed that you aren’t allowed to talk to me,” Cas says tiredly.

“You can ruin your life as you please, but how dare you embarrass your brothers like that. Those are their co-workers. They don’t need to know about your shameful life.”

Cas turns then, boiling with anger again. “I didn’t say a word to them about it,” she says. “That was the fault of your precious Bartholomew.”

“Oh, for once could you please take responsibility for your-”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Cas cries, beyond frustrated. “Why do you always blame me for everything that-”

“Because you bring trouble on yourself,” Naomi snarls. “You look for any excuse to bring shame to this family!”

“I have done everything you’ve ever asked of me! I went to the schools _you_ picked. I studied what _you_ wanted me to study. I took a job _you_ approved of. I bought a house where _you_ told me to.” Cas throws her hands out. “But it’s never enough. What else could you possibly want from me?”

“I WANT YOU TO BE NORMAL!”

Naomi’s outburst draws more than a few stares. They stand still, just breathing, eyeing each other closely.

“I am normal.”

“The way you live is not natural, it’s not-”

“Cas?”

Both women turn, Naomi frowning as Cas’s face splits into a stunned smile as a blonde woman walks toward her. She takes in the black gown, the blonde curls pinned back that show off the edges of the family of narcissus blooming over the back of her shoulder.  
“Deanna.” Cas can only manage to breathe her name as they step toward one another.

Deanna smiles, small and maybe even shy. “Sorry I’m late.”

“What are you doing here?” Cas whispers.

“Okay I know you told me not to come but I was sitting at home thinking about you being all alone here and miserable and I just couldn’t stay there, so I- so I… crashed your sister’s wedding,” she says with a wince. “Are you angry?”

Cas feels a pressure in her head like she’s going to sneeze. Instead, she just smiles and lets her hand reach out for Deanna’s.

“No,” she says quietly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Castielle.” Naomi’s voice rings hard behind them. “Who is this?”

Both women look up, hit brutally with Naomi’s disgusted leer as her eyes fall to their interlaced fingers and her eyes light like blue fire.

“She’s- she’s-”

It’s the first time, Cas realizes. The first time in 30 years that her mother has seen her with a woman. Cas always expected to receive a dirty look if it ever happened, but she hadn’t prepared herself for this amount of hatred, and it sickens her the way it seems to eat at her resolve and she lets her hand go lax in Deanna’s hold.

“She’s…”

Then Deanna’s hand squeezes hers, tightening their hold and moving even closer. “I think girlfriend has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Cas looks to her, eyes blowing wide as the words sink deep, a drop of sunlight that pulses through her body chasing all of the doubts away.

“Y-yes,” she agrees, smiling slowly. “It sounds perfect.”

Deanna smiles back, all wide and goofy. “You wanna dance?”

“Castielle, don’t you dare-”

“Yes, please.”

She leads them out onto the dance floor and Deanna doesn’t hesitate to pull Cas’s hands around her neck, dropping her own to Cas’s waist and they start swaying with the other couples. Some of them stare; Cas can feel them, thinks she can hear the whispers too and she stumbles.

“Hey,” Deanna whispers, drawing her eyes. “Don’t pay attention to them. Just look at me.”

Cas nods, sinks a little closer. “I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I can’t believe I just called you my girlfriend in front of your mother.”

Cas winces. “It does sound a bit odd being applied to two women in their thirties.”

Deanna laughs, throwing her head back. “Okay, one: I still have two years before I’m thirty.”

“Oh, my apologies,” Cas laughs.

“And two: I don’t plan on calling you my girlfriend for too long.”

Something like anticipation shivers through Cas. “Is that your way of saying we’re breaking up or did you just prematurely propose to me?”

Deanna’s smile softens. “Definitely the second one.” She ducks her head a little, cheeks heating. “Sorry if that made things weird. I just… I know this is very new and we barely know each other, but I — I get this feeling, Cas, when I’m with you like… like I’m not supposed to be anywhere else.”

Cas listens quietly, stunned beyond words.

“Oh god, I made it weirder,” Deanna sighs and her hands start to slip.

“No,” Cas says quickly, pulling her back in. “It’s not weird. I feel exactly the same way.”

Deanna looks up, eyes hopeful but suspicious. “Really?”

“I don’t lie to you,” Cas promises. “Besides, I think it would be quite nice to marry you.”

“Yeah?” Deanna grins. “Why’s that?”

“Because you were right about how you look in a dress.”

Deanna drops her head to Cas’s shoulder and she feels her lips smiling into her neck.

“I think I love you, Cas.”

“I know I love you.”


	19. Epilogue

Dee paces impatiently across the room, hands shaking and breathing a little too fast.

“Dee, relax,” Sam says. “Everything is going to be all right.”

“We’re already a half hour late, Sam,” Dee snaps. “People are probably pissed and I’m hungry and what if- what if she-”

Sam stands, swatting at her skirt, before coming close. “Deanna, you have nothing to worry about. This is just one little hitch in the road. Everything will be fine. She’s going to be there.”

They wait another ten minutes before the door opens and Donna barges in. Dee rounds on her. “What the hell is taking so long?” she demands.

Donna’s normal cheer flattens into something a little more stubborn. “Don’t you start with me, Dee. This is what happens when you decide to change the dress the day before.”

And Dee doesn’t have a good response to that because… well, she’s totally right.

“Sorry,” she says. “But is it okay? How much longer?”

Donna’s smile returns, brighter than ever. “It’s all done. Prepare to move out in five minutes.”

Sam passes her the bouquet with an excited grin. “Ready?”

Dee blows out a deep breath, shaking her final nerves away. “More than ever.”

It’s not long before Donna moves them out into the foyer where Sam and Anna stand side by side and Dee loops her arm through her father’s. John has a funny expression and keeps ducking his head, which makes Dee look closer.

“Dad, are you crying?”

“A father is allowed to cry on his daughter’s wedding day,” he answers gruffly.

“Everyone in their spots!” Donna cries, running around frantically. “Queue the music.”

They hear a nice acoustic lullaby strum to life on the other side of the doors.

“Sam and Anna walk in three… two… one!”

The garden doors swing open and Sam and Anna walk through. Dee can hear the guests now, can make out a few blurry heads and the bright greenery of the venue. 

“Prepare bridal march,” Donna says into her headset.

John gives her arm a squeeze. “You ready?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Dee wonders.

John shrugs. “Some people get cold feet. Wedding jitters.”

“Did you?”

A fond smile softens her father's face. “Nope. Knew your mom was the one from the second she threatened to punch my teeth out of line.”

Dee laughs, tries to suck in a deep breath when Donna eyes her. She turns her smile up at her dad. “Cas is the one.”

John's smile doesn't change as he bends to press a kiss to his daughter's forehead. “I think she is too."

The walk down the aisle feels longer than it actually is and Dee clutches to her father’s arm tightly, praying not to trip or step on her dress. They reach the end safely and John kisses her cheek before moving to her mother's side.

Dee just stands still for a few seconds, breathing as deeply as she can manage.

She hears the guests start to stir again, then a few gasps and she smiles to herself because she knows what they must be seeing.

She still remembers the night like it’s tattooed on her eyelids, when Cas woke her with kisses at two a.m.

_“I think I’m ready.”_

_“For what?” Dee asks._

_All Cas does in response is strip off her shirt and turn her back to her fiancée. “To fix them.”_  
They’d stayed up till eight in the morning, Cas clenching to a kitchen chair while Dee worked on her wings, filling it the missing feathers, soothing jagged ridges, mending the broken arches. It felt like stitching Cas back together, pumping ink into her skin that chased all the darkness away.

A hand reaches out to grasp her left shoulder and Dee’s breath hitches. She turns slowly, almost afraid to look but then Cas’s smile comes into focus right before she gasps and goes to cover her mouth.

They take each other in selfishly and without shame, hands coming together like second nature, because at this point it is.

Cas is beautiful, her hair taken into one long dark braid coming over her shoulder, flowers threaded through it. Dee wants to touch and she does, poking a flower into place, stroking a tear from her cheek.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate…”

She barely listens as the ceremony begins, too focused on the woman in front of her. Cas clutches her hand, eyes still brimming and it makes Dee chuckle despite herself because it’s the most emotional she’s ever seen the woman in two years.

Cas stutters through her vows, fighting hard to regain control of herself and Dee strokes her palm.

“You saved me from a life I had condemned myself to. You showed me the good in people. You asked me to jump and promised a safe place to land and you’ve never let me down even once. And I vow to always do the same for you, to love you in light and darkness, support you through good and bad, to always come when you need me and never leave until our last.”

The ring slides on Dee's finger, making her chest flutter.

“Benny said that you know you’ve found the one when their happiness means more to you than your own and if that’s true, then I have loved you since the first time you walked into my shop. There’s never been a smile that’s meant as much to me as yours and from the moment you walked into my life it became my goal to get as many out of you as possible. I vow to keep trying every day of our life together. I vow to protect you, whether it’s from spiders or dark thoughts or the monsters of your past. I vow to never let you forget that you are always the one that I want.”

She pushes the band onto Cas’s finger and they clutch each other tight.

“I now pronounce you spouses in life, for life. You may kiss your bride.”

They fall into each other, meeting perfectly in the middle for a kiss that sounds like thunderous applause and tastes like the beginning of a happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://caslikescoffeeandfreckles.tumblr.com/).


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